The Last Of The White Vampires
by F-35 Phoenix
Summary: The time has come. Now the true fight for humanity begins...
1. Prologue

**Hey! Flyboy here, with the second installment of the Dark Phoenix-Flyboy works! This time, we take on **_**Hellsing**_**. Kuru handled the whole vampire deal, while I handled the "What-the-hell-is-going-on-this-can't-be-happening" angle. So, LET'S GET TO IT!**

The Last of the White Vampires

Prologue- New Assignment

The buzzing of his desk phone drew the director away from his work on the latest allegations of corruption, almost thankfully. "Yes," he said, pressing the button.

"Sir, Agent Matthews is outside for his appointment."

The director nodded. "Alright, send him in."

In seconds, the door opened, and Agent William Matthews walked in. At only 200 pounds of mostly lean muscle, he didn't make an imposing a figure. But then in the CIA, nothing is ever as it seems. Striding up to the desk, Matthews stood at a rigid attention in front of his boss. "Sit down, Matthews, this is good news for you."

Sitting down rigidly, Matthews stared straight ahead, waiting for what would come next.

The director sighed. "Matthews, I won't beat around the bush. I'm sending you on a field assignment." The agents face lit up. "Yes, that's right, you're going on your first field mission." The director held up a hand for silence. "In two days, you will be going to England. It seems there's been some activity there that their government hasn't told us about, and we need to know how badly this could affect us. Is that clear?"

Matthews nodded with barely contained glee. "Crystal sir."

The director leaned back. "Good. Your passport and other things are waiting in room 1-3. Your contact will be one Walter Dorenz. That is all." Rising, the director stuck out his hand. "Good luck, Matthews."

Matthews shook vigorously. "Thank you sir. I promise, I won't let you down." Walking towards the door, he paused for a second, then opened the door, revealing the directors secretary standing outside, who was reaching for the handle before it was opened. With that, Matthews walked out the door, leaving both people confused.

Matthews was ecstatic. "My first field op! This is it!" He was nearly skipping down Langley's halls. After five years of riding a desk, he was finally moving up! Then he froze. He was in front of door 1-3. Swallowing his fear, he walked right in without hesitation. Inside were various men in various clothes, testing out what looked like weapons and other equipment. Carefully navigating the strange group of testers, Matthews found Dr. Thomas DeBier, testing yet another one of his personal pet projects, this time one that looked like a small alarm clock. Deciding against touching the man, he instead tapped the small bell that was on the man's desk. "Huh? Who's there?" The scientist's heavy southern twang turned the "there" into "thar", but it was nothing new. The heavy accent had become acceptable hearing in the eight years the man had been there. "Oh, Matthews, I heard about the news. Congratulations man," he said, shaking the agent's hand. "Well, since you're a new agent, I thought I'd give some new toys we've been working on. Follow me."

Matthews gazed around the large room as he walked. Men were firing guns, working with tools, and writing on giant whiteboards. The whole scene resembled the famous James Bond movies, except this was about as close as the intelligence world got to the super-spy.

"Alright," DeBier said, "Let's see…" Rummaging through some drawers and lockers, he soon came out bearing an assortment of weapons and devices. "Oh, here's a good one!" He put a watch on the table. "Ordinary looking Rolex, buy it anywhere, BUT! This conceals a small chemical laser. It's only got one shot, though, so make sure you use it in only the most desperate circumstances. Its effective range is one meter. Now," he said, putting down a pen. "This pen conceals darts containing some of the most lethal poisons we have. Two quick clicks, and you can kill from a meter and a half."

Matthews looked at both, and a shiver went up his spine. This was obviously deadly business. "So, can it reload?"

DeBier nodded. "Of course. Just unscrew the top…" And after five minutes, Matthews learned more about a pen than any man needed to know. "And finally," DeBier smiled, "Your defenses." He placed a pistol down on the table. "Beretta 9mm pistol, fifteen round mag, optimized with a laser sight. Three additional mags that can be inserted into your suitcase for added concealment." Staring proudly at his work, it took DeBier a second to remember what was happening. "Well! That about does it. So…" Searching for the words, he simply stuck out his hand. "Good luck, Matthews. You deserve a chance like this." Shaking hands, Matthews gathered up his things and walked out the door, to get ready for his first real mission.

"Oh, this is a great chance indeed…" said a small figure, curled under one of the testing desks. Unfortunately for him, it was a test desk for heat-based weapons.

The tech looked up from his experiments. He swore, that for a second, he had heard and animal cry out from under his station. But, since security would have confiscated it, he simply went on ahead with his work, passing it off as background noise.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1- Introducing Is Hard To Do

Matthews stepped out of Heathrow airport grinning like a fool. "Man, I'm really here!" Even though he was CIA, he had still never really left the US. The farthest he had ever gotten was Canada, and that was only to Niagara Falls. But this was a completely different country thousands of miles from his birthplace! "I've finally made it," he thought.

After going through the obstacle course of airport security, he walked out into the international waiting area, to meet up with the contact…Dornetz, right? Sitting down, he started reading tomorrows copy of _US News_. He was halfway through an article about oil when he noticed a shadow was across him. Slowly looking up, he saw a middle-aged man with a monocle staring down at him. "William Matthews?"

Matthews started folding up the paper and started getting up. "Walter Dornetz?"

The man chuckled a little. "Dorenz, actually."

Matthews offered a sheepish grin as an apology. "So, are you the-"

Dorenz held up his hand. "Now is not the time, Mr. Matthews. Follow me. I recommend you sleep during the ride, you may need it."

Arching his eyebrows at the man, Matthews followed him out to the waiting Rolls Royce.

At first, it seemed odd that the man made no conversation, but Matthews figured it was simply because he was an experienced operative. He certainly looked old enough. Getting in the car, Matthews was first struck by how small it was. There was only room for two people and any luggage. Matthews' small carry-on bags were easily stowed, and soon, they were off.

"So," Matthews said, trying to break the awkward silence, "Who are you with? MI-5? MI-6? SAS?"

Dorenz shook his head. "Actually, I'm not with any of them."

Matthews looked at him for a second, confused, then smiled a little. "Well, every country has its black-ops. Hell, we have seven! So, what's the specialty for yours?"

"Well, it can be a little…complicated for newcomers." Turning his head, Dorenz smiled kindly. "As I have said before, you should probably get some sleep. You may need it."

Confused, Matthews simply decided to follow the older mans advice and sleep for the rest of the ride.

Waking up, Matthews found it was already dusk. Looking around, he saw he was pulling up to an enormous mansion. As the car drew closer, it seemed like the house was surrounding the car, ready to swallow it. Outside, there was a huge chain link fence, topped with barbed wire, with at least ten men outside, equipped with some of the heaviest weapons Matthews had ever seen. "Jeez, this is heavier than Gitmo."

Dorenz smiled. "Oh, you don't know the half of it." Pulling up to the fence, all he had to do was roll down the window for the guards to know who was driving. Driving through, Dorenz pulled into a huge courtyard, full of men training in various martial arts and weapons techniques.

"Wow," Matthews said quietly, "This is one hell of a compound. What, you expecting an invasion or something?"

Dorenz just smiled. "This is where I leave you, sir. You will be led the rest of the way by Ms. Victoria and Mr. Bernadotte." Sticking out his hand, he shook with the young agent. "A pleasure meeting you, sir. Farwell." Getting into the car, he then drove off, leaving Matthews in the middle of a courtyard filled with at least two dozen men who were trained to kill, who were now starting to notice him. Suddenly, Matthews found himself wishing Dornetz had waited a little longer.

About a minute later, a voice sounded behind him. "Agent Matthews?" Turning, Matthews saw a small girl with short blonde hair and an unbelievably uniform on, and a man wearing what looked like a misshapen cowboy hat with a long ponytail. "Hi. I'm Seras Victoria, Hellsing organization."

Before Matthews could introduce himself, the man grabbed his hand and shook. To Matthews, it felt like being thrown around by an earthquake. "Pip Bernadotte, Captain of the Wild Geese. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Follow us, we'll take you to meet Sir Hellsing."

Hastily gathering his small number of belongings, he followed the pair through the halls of the giant mansion. "So, what's the story?" he asked. "What exactly do you do?"

Seras started to answer, but Pip cut her off. "We're not at liberty to say. Only Sir Hellsing can tell you that." Seras looked at Pip, confused, but Pip only winked. Realizing the American had not been informed on what was happening, she could only wink back.

Matthews didn't see. "Oh…well, what do you two do here?"

Seras was quicker this time. "We're the combat arm of Hellsing. We handle the problems the scientists can't figure out. What about you? You're 'CIA' aren't you? What sort of super-spy missions do you go on?" The genuine curiosity in her voice was hard to miss.

"Well, actually," Matthews said, scratching his head, "This is my first real field assignment."

The pair of fighters stopped in mid-stride to stare. Both were thinking almost the exact same thing. "They sent someone who has no experience?"

Sensing the awkward silence, he tried to strike up conversation again. "So…what kind of guy is you boss?"

Pip smiled again. "Oh, you'll love Sir Hellsing, just trust us." Starting walking again, they soon reached an intricately carved wooden door. "Alright, this is where I leave you," Pip said, walking further down the corridor. "Let me know how it turns out, mignonette."

Smiling, Seras motioned for Matthews to follow her inside. For a moment, she flashed her teeth, and for just a second, Matthews swore her canines were totally oversized. But, figuring it was just British dentists at work, he quickly forgot about it. Walking inside the room, he first put his stuff down on the floor, then looked around. All he saw was one long carpet that ended at a large desk. And at that desk, there was a middle-aged woman, working on some papers, seemingly oblivious to the pair's existence.

"Um, excuse me?" Matthews cried out. "Are you Sir Hellsing's assistant?"

The woman only looked up a little, but the look on her face would have frozen hell. In seconds, Matthews started quivering, and was at a full shake by fifteen seconds. "Sorry…his wife?" Another glare silenced him.

"Sorry, Sir," Seras quickly said, drawing attention away from the unstable Matthews. "Neither myself or Captain Bernadotte mentioned to Agent Matthews that you were, in fact, a woman."

Integra Van Hellsing looked at Seras for a long time, her eyes searching every facet of the girl for a truth. After a whole minute, she finally said, "Acceptable." Suddenly putting on a semi-friendly face, she motioned to two previously unseen chairs. "Please, sit down."

Gathering himself together, Matthews nodded and sat down, slowly getting his shakes under control. "S…s…so, um, Sir Hellsing," he said, sounding entirely unsure of himself, "What…exactly is it you do in this organization?"

Smiling, she answered, "We kill vampires, Agent Matthews."

Matthews stared incredulously at the woman, his lips working silently for an answer. Turning to look at Seras, he instead saw four pointed canines smiling back. Then he looked back at the desk and screamed, "All right, that is IT!" He jumped up, face full of rage and eyes glinting. "Now I have been the butt of your 'new-guy' jokes long enough! Now, by the authority given to me by the CIA, I _demand_ you tell me what your purpose is!"

Seras was slowly backing away from the argument now. "He doesn't know what she's capable of," she thought, staring at the American actually _screaming_ at the second most powerful woman in England. Then she looked back at her boss and became even more confused. Instead of rising with anger, she was simply smiling. And then it hit Seras. Quickly, she got as far away from Matthews as possible.

Matthew noticed this, and stared back at Hellsing, with a face of anger mixed with concern. Only grinning, she simply said, "Alucard,"

Almost from nowhere, a man in a bright red coat appeared, instantly taking place beside Integra. That was when Matthews started laughing. "Oh, man, I've seen some devoted guys in the Agency, but let me tell you, you British take the cake when it comes to commitment!" Alucard was smiling to. When Matthews stared at him, he froze. The man had more than four sharp canines. He had a sharp pair of jaws. That was when Integra nodded.

If Matthews was to make a comparison, he would probably liken what happened to being in the center of a sadistic tornado. All he saw were disturbing things that few men ever have the bad luck to see. Later, he vaguely recalled drawing his gun, though Alucard said it "barely tickled." They were all later surprised that his hair had not gone from brown to white, except for Integra. And after it was over, he was still standing, though unsteadily, surprising even Sir Hellsing.

Matthews voice quivered as he tried to find the right words. "Vampire?" He said, pointing at Alucard. Alucard nodded. "Vampire?" he asked Seras, who also nodded. "Vampire?" he asked Integra, who shook her head. "Okay." With that, Matthews promptly fainted to the floor.

Alucard smiled. "We may have some fun with this one.

"Vampires….monsters…things…bad teeth…" Matthews mumbled, before his eyes shot open. Looking around, he sighed. "Phew, it was only a really weird dream…" and then he looked to his left and saw Seras smiling coyly. "AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" he cried, "NOT A DREAM! NOT A DREAM!" Instantly, he sprinted to the other wall. Looking more closely, he saw he was inside of an armored vehicle, dressed in a black combat suit. "What the hell!"

"Well, at least you're awake," Seras said. "Well, you've probably forgotten, so I'll tell you again. I'm Seras Victoria, Hellsing," as she stuck out her hand.

Matthews looked at the girl like she had grown three heads. "Wait…what?! Where the hell am I! What the hell's going on around here!"

"We're off on a mission," she replied. "You see, Sir Hellsing was going to explain things to you, but you passed out before she had a chance. So, we simply dressed you up, gave you a weapon and put you in the van." The fact that she was smiling didn't make Matthews feel any better. He was still a little on edge, and soon started screaming again. "Hey, look, I know you things suck blood, but calm down! I'll let you have some just don't freaking kill me!"

Seras sighed. "Oh, jeez…look, come over here, next to me." She patted the empty space next to her. Slowly, and, remembering his Beretta, gun up, Matthews sat down next to her. "You know that won't do anything, right?" Matthews kept the steely look on his face, then slowly, let it fade. "So, what do you know about vampires?"

Matthews waited before answering. "Only what they show me in the movies. Hate the sun, love blood, hate garlic, hate crosses, hate holy water, and stake'em through the heart, they 're-die'. That's about it."

Seras nodded with understanding. "So, you've never seen a live vampire?"

"Oh, what do you think?" Matthews wailed. "I mean, earlier, I was on top of the world. Now, I'm in a foreign country, sitting next to a person I shouldn't be talking to, on our way to kill a vampire!"

"Freaks, actually," Seras responded.

Matthews stared at her. "What, its not enough that they're undead, you have to make fun of them too?"

Seras shook her head. "No, no, no! Freaks are artificial vampires created by implanting a chip in their necks. They aren't as powerful as a real vampire, like me, but they're pretty deadly."

Matthews paused to digest the information he was just given. "So…vampires can be created. Is that what you're saying?" Seras nodded. "So, vampires are victims of a virus?" Seras stared at Matthews, her face blank. Then she started giggling. Then she started laughing. In five minutes, she was rolling on the floor, tears streaming down her face. "Okay, I get it," Matthews answered. "So, where the hell are we going?"

Seras wiped away the tears and spoke again. "We're going to an orphanage in South London. At least two freaks are responsible for killing over three dozen children."

Matthews face froze in disbelief. "Three…dozen kids…?" Seras nodded. "So what are the police doing!?"

Seras looked at him in surprise. "What do you mean? The police don't even know this happened! These two were smart enough to kill silently, so no one would know they were there. But instead, one of our agents was walking by when he saw the attack happen. We're on our way to help."

Matthews nodded, suddenly becoming serious. "Alright. What's the plan?"

Just them, a small panel slid open in the front. "We're here, Ms. Victoria. You ready?"

Victoria grabbed her grenade launcher. "Always." She turned to Matthews. "Come on, you're my support!"

Staring at her, Matthews mumbled, "This is_ so_ not worth the promotion."


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2- Party Crashers

BOOM

The door flew the length of the hallway and slammed against the opposite wall, breaking into hundreds of pieces. Seras looked in, smiled, and walked in, gun over her shoulder. Matthews came in after and stared in complete bewilderment. "That's your plan?! Just break down the front door and waltz right in?! Won't the enemy start shooting?!"

Finally having had enough, Seras grabbed Matthews Beretta, pointed it at her chest and, before Matthews could react, shot herself. Grabbing him, she thrust him close, showed him the bullet hole, then shoved the gun in his hands and threw him back, his face undoubtedly red. "Now do you understand?" she said, "I won't die that easily."

Holding the gun like it was a giant bug, he simply stared at Seras. His mind was working overtime. He was still trying to comprehend the fact that he was now in a South London orphanage with a woman who said she was already dead. Trying as hard as he could to keep from fainting, he kept up with her as she walked through the corridors.

Suddenly, a person stumbled out from one of the rooms. Throwing Matthews back, Seras threw her weapon up and fired, obliterating the ghoul. "What the hell was that?!" Matthews screamed.

"A ghoul," Seras answered, kneeling down to look. "They're either unchaste or members of the same sex as the vampire that killed them that come back to life. They're nothing but mindless, flesh eating creatures." Turning, she saw Matthews face slowly grow a smile.

"You said mindless?" She nodded. "You said flesh-eating?" Another nod. "And you can kill them with a shot to the head, right?"

Now it was Seras' turn to be confused. "Wait, how did you know that?"

Matthews smiled broadly. "Well, we use a different name for ghouls in America. We call them… 'zombies'." Suddenly, another door burst open, and three ghouls came shambling out. "Don't worry," Matthews said, hoisting his MP5, "I know what to do." Before Seras could say anything, Matthews aimed and fired into them, his shots ripping through the heads of the undead, redecorating the hallway in blood red and cerebellum gray. Seras simply stood behind him, intrigued. Not only was he out of his confused rut, but now was showing some promise. Here he had already dispatched more ghouls than her tonight.

Suddenly another door swung open, and Matthews froze. Inside was a small girl, about five, long dark hair flowing from her head. Looking at her, Matthews lowered his gun and started signaling for the girl to come to him. "Come on, honey, we're here to help. Just come towards us, and we can get you out of here-" Then Seras shoved him out of the way and, without pausing, shot the girl. "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING?!" Matthews cried. "She was still alive! There was no blood anywhere! You just killed-" Seras threw the body at Matthews, and it landed face down, revealing that all the skin was removed from the girls back, leaving nearly everything visible. Matthews looked at the girl, then back up at Seras. Turning his head away, he said, "Sorry."

Seras sighed. "Don't worry. We've already taken out half the ghouls here. We'll be done in at least a half-hour."

Nodding, Matthews checked his weapons. "I think from now on I'll cover our rear. We have any back-up?"

Seras shook her head. "Nope, this is just us." Matthews' jaw dropped. "What? We can handle this easily."

Matthews couldn't believe it. "So…you're saying…that you have a private army…but you DON"T USE THEM! What the hell is wrong with you people?"

Seras looked at him, starting to get annoyed. "They can only handle ghouls. Sending them out against any kind of vampire would kill them. We simply keep them on hand for anything big. Now, just stay behind me until I give you a signal." Not knowing what else to do, Matthews followed, keeping close watch.

Alucard smiled. "Will humans never cease to amaze," he thought. "Earlier, this agent was nothing but a quivering sack. Now, I find he can already fight a ghoul. I may have to test him."

In all, there were six other rooms filled with ghouls. Most were children, which caught Matthews in a situation he never thought he would face. As for Seras, she was the picture of professionalism. She calmly dispatched nearly all of the ghouls with a cool, calm attitude. Soon, they found themselves all out of targets. "So," Matthews asked, "Where are the, what did you call them, freaks?"

Seras looked around and started sniffing the air. "They're…on the roof. Come on!" Running, Seras paused before opening the door, and that was all Alucard needed.

"Seras, I need you to listen to me. Let the human handle these freaks. If he dies, it would be no great loss. And if he lives, he could be of some small value."

Seras decided to see if she could at least talk to Alucard. "But master, neither of us has any silver bullets. What can he use-"

"Look in your left shirt pocket, Seras. I had Walter take the precaution." Rooting around, she did find one fifteen round magazine of silver-injecting bullets. "Give them to him, and let him show his talent."

Looking carefully at the American, Seras decided to take her master's advice. "Here," she said, "Silver-injecting bullets. The most effective ammunition you can use."

Matthews looked at her, and whispered, "Wait, we're fighting _werewolves_?!"

Seras hit him on the head. "No!" she whispered back. "It just works well against both vampires _and_ werewolves!" She paused. "And how did you know werewolves exist?"

Matthews shrugged. "They're the 'holy trinity' of horror movies, so why not?"

Seras shot him a look. "Whatever. Just take the shot."

Nodding, Matthews peered around the corner, and promptly drew his head back in. "Are you crazy?" he whispered. "There's got to be at least six of those damn things out there!"

Seras shrugged. "So?"

"STOP BEING SO DAMN NONCHALANT ABOUT ALL THIS!" Matthews said, as close to screaming as a whisper could allow. Sighing, he poked his head out, along with the gun, and took aim. In quick succession, he sent three shots into the heart of the first vampire. Then, he aimed for the second, and was about to fire when Seras yelled, "Too slow!" Pulling her own weapon, she fired off five shots in rapid succession, each ripping through her opponents' chest.

Matthews couldn't believe it. In the time it had taken him to put three bullets into a target, the girl had put five into five! "What the hell is going on here!" he thought. "First vampires, then this! All of England must be completely stupid!" Then he thought about how even the CIA didn't know. "The whole _world_ must be completely stupid."

Seras smiled. "Alright! Come on then! We have to get back to HQ for some rest! Its almost sunrise, you know."

Barely conscious at that point, Matthews meekly followed.

Getting in the back of the vehicle, the driver slid the hatch open. "So, how'd it go, miss?"

Seras smiled. "Pretty well, actually!" She looked at Matthews. "Our American friend here has some promise," then she whispered to the driver, "if he survives."

Alucard was also smiling. "Hm. Impressive. Maybe this human will last longer than a week."


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3- Rest and Relaxation

Matthews stumbled out of the armored car. Barely raising his head, he saw he was inside the mansion courtyard again, just as the sun was rising. Shielding his eyes from the growing light, he looked back into the car. Inside, Victoria was sticking as close to the shade as she could, trying hard to avoid the sunlight. Looking around, Matthews saw a tarp lying nearby.

Hearing a crinkling noise, Seras looked up to see a tarp over her head. Looking around, she saw Matthews to her left, holding the tarp over her head. "Hey, you may be dead, but that doesn't mean I can't be nice, right?"

Seras smiled a little. "No, I guess not." They walked in silence the rest of the way to the building, where Dorentz was waiting inside. "How was it, Ms. Victoria?"

"Not that bad, Walter. Agent Matthews did pretty well last night. Three ghouls and a freak."

Dorentz face betrayed his surprise. "Really? A first timer taking out three ghouls and a freak? That means you're either incredibly skilled," and then, in a lower voice, "or incredibly lucky."

Matthews could only acknowledge. Then, widely and loudly, he yawned. "Oh man…" he moaned, "I am tired! You guys have a place to sleep in this place?"

Dornetz nodded. "Yes. You will be sleeping with Ms. Victoria."

Both looked at Walter, then at each other, then back at Walter. "WHAT?!"

Walter seemed confused for a moment, then smiled and laughed. "Oh, sorry. Don't worry, you'll still have separate beds from one another. And you won't have to worry about the mercenaries disturbing you, Agent Matthews."

Matthews sighed. "Believe me, Walter, they wouldn't disturb me at _all_."

Just then, sharp footsteps started approaching them. "Well, you have no choice in the matter, Agent Matthews," said a sharp voice. "You will sleep with Victoria because I do not prefer my special agents to intermingle that closely with my men."

"'Special agents'?" Matthews asked. "What do you mean, you don't own me! What are you talking about! And why the hell did you send me on a mission where I could have been killed because you didn't tell me what to expect!"

"I did, remember? In my office, when you called me a 'secretary' and 'wife'. Besides," said Integra, lighting a cigar, "You survived, didn't you?"

Now Matthews was getting mad. "Yeah, only because I was lucky enough to watch George A. Romero!"

Integra looked at Matthews confused, then started laughing. "Oh, I _told_ them he would be doing things like that, but they don't listen!"

"Who," Matthews growled, " 'who' wouldn't listen? TELL ME!"

Integra only smiled. "You will sleep in the same room as Ms. Victoria, as all the others are occupied to their fullest capacity." With that, she walked off. "And Ms. Victoria, remember, that is our guest. Do treat him well."

Matthews stared angrily at the retreating back of the woman. "Is she always like that?" he growled at Seras.

Seras shook her head. "She can actually be a nice person. She just takes some getting used to, is all."

Dorentz stared at the spectacle, having another laugh for the first real time in years, before he led the pair to their room. "Now, once more, I must see to my master. Agent Matthews, Ms. Victoria." Nodding, he walked down the same corridor, until he disappeared from sight.

"Jesus," Matthews said, "What the hell is in the water here?"

"Oh, I have some theories," Seras said, unlocking the door. Walking in, Matthews was first struck by the layout of the room. At the back wall were two clothes drawers. There was a small bathroom to the left, with all facilities, and on the right was a bed. That's not what scared Matthews. What did was the thing on the left side of the room. "What the hell? I thought that was only in the movies!"

Seras laughed nervously. "Well, in a way, it has made me fell more…vampire-ey."

Matthews only stared at her. "Well, isn't this taking it a little far?"

Seras shook her head. "Master sleeps in a coffin, and look at how powerful he is."

Suddenly, Alucard materialized from the back of the room. "Flattery doesn't work on me, police girl. You should know that by now."

Matthews started screaming. Pulling his Beretta, he started firing before Seras could do a thing. The first shot was straight between the eyes. The second pierced the left eye. The third and fourth followed each other into the neck. The rest were wild. "Are you done yet?" asked the vampire, in a gravely voice.

"I should have seen this coming really," Matthews said, hanging his head.

Suddenly, Seras jumped between her master and Matthews. "Master, please, don't hurt him! He doesn't know what you're like! And if you do hurt him, whatever Sir Integra is planning will fail!"

Looking out of his one good eye at Seras, then at Matthews, Alucard started laughing madly. The other two in the room simply stared at him, Seras pushing Matthews back. "You think I would kill one of the few humans to shoot at me in years?" he laughed, his voice gradually returning. "This man may actually show some promise," he said, as the last part of his head returned from thin-air.

Staring with a look of utter disbelief on his face, Matthews simply threw down his gun and landed facedown on his cot. "Goodnight. When I wake up, this will all be some terrible dream I got from walking to closely to the toxic chemical vats."

Seras became exasperated. "Master, _please_ go easy on the American! He's still getting used to this. After all, he still needs to learn so much more."

Alucard didn't even look in Seras' direction. "Don't worry police girl. Remember, I can only kill when I'm allowed to, remember?" Fading back through the wall, he left the pair to their own devices. Seras sighed, then looked back over at Matthews. Walking over, she kneeled down next to his bed. "Hey, are you sure you're okay?"

Matthew shook his head. "What do you think?"

Seras tried again. "But you did really well! You managed to take out three ghouls and a freak. Most of our men never do that much in their entire time here!"

Matthews chuckled. "So? The only reason I knew what to do was because I like zombie movies. Hell, back home I'm nothing but a no one, a desk jockey. I can't get a date to save my life, and, to top it off, I just found out that the undead really exist." He sighed again, and rolled over to the wall. "This has been a career making day for me."

Seras remained silent for a few minutes before responding, trying to remember what it was like for her when she first found out. It seemed so long ago since Alucard had turned her. Like Matthews, she had gone through what could be considered withdrawal because of it. But it was different for her. She had actually been killed first. She had actually died, and then came back, something the agent would never know, if he was lucky.

Matthews mind was on a completely different track, though. He knew this was all totally unreal, and yet was happening to him. He also remembered his mission, to discover what the British government was hiding. "Well," he thought, "That one was easy enough. Now how the hell can I get this information to Langley? Even better," he thought sarcastically, "How the hell can I get them to believe me?"

Suddenly, he remembered something that Seras had said earlier, about the vampires earlier. Quickly, his mind formulated a plan. "Hey, you think you can show me around this place?" he asked. "You know, just so I can get used to it?"

Seras smiled. "He's going to be okay," she thought. Clapping him on the shoulder, she said, "Sure, I'll be more than happy to show you around." Stretching, she yawned, "Well, I'm going to bed. Good morning." With that, she climbed into her coffin and fell asleep. Within minutes, she was calmly snoring away. Matthews wondered how long it would take before he found the method of transformation.

Integra took one last look over her papers before turning in. In particular, she focused on papers concerning the American. "Top of his classes, high school and college," she wondered out loud. "Magna Sum Laude, Harvard, CIA training and acceptance, five years work." She thought to herself. "And yet there was never any sign?" She shook her head, smiling. "They really should start listening to me," she thought. Turning off her desk lamp and walking to her bed, she saw the sun rising, taking with it all traces of the last night. The morning news in London would credit the slaughter to a religious group that was once real, and kept alive for that exact reason. "Soon, they will forget," she said, getting into bed. "What a wonderful thing, to be without knowledge. It makes the past so much easier to forget."

The finely furnished room was cloaked in thick, gray-blue smoke, the lights barely penetrating it. Even then, the faces of those inside were obscured by shadows. Each knew each other well enough to do away with a face-to-face meeting. However, there were fewer than usual, only four out of the fifty present. The rest were unessential. Their presence wasn't necessary for the "big" decisions. "So," the first elder said, taking his Morley from his mouth, "They found him?"

The second elder nodded, his immaculately manicured hands gripping the arms of his chair. "I still disagree with this course of action. We all know how reckless this could be for us!" His gravely voice was barely even a shout, but it carried across the whole room.

"We all knew the risks," said the third, his fat moving with every word. "We had to accept them, because we did not have the capabilities Hellsing does."

"That still doesn't protect us!" the second countered. "If we give them this, we could lose everything we have worked for over the past six decades!"

"And?" the fourth elder asked, his balding head barely reflecting the light off the lamps, a glass of scotch in his hand. "As he said," motioning to the third elder, "We all knew the risks of this, yourself most of all. We still don't have the right tools necessary for training."

The second elder glared, his eyes reflecting the little light there was like daggers. He looked at each of them, trying to find a chink in their armor. Finding nothing, he slinked back into his seat. "What's wrong," asked the first elder, "Run out of excuses?" The second knew that if there was enough light, he would see every tobacco stained tooth in the man's mouth. "Well good," the first elder ploughed on, "It's settled then. We'll inform the other members at the next group meeting. In the meantime," he said, heading for the door, "We should keep quiet about what else we've learned. Whatever happens, no one else can know." Shutting the door after him, the first elder lit another Morley as he approached his car. Pausing five feet away, he took out his keys, found his car zapper, and unlocked it. An explosion ripped through the parking garage, destroying two other cars in the process. Unfazed, he sighed and walked out onto the street to call a cab. Finally getting one, he quickly entered. "Hey, where to buddy?"

"Central Park," said the elder. And soon, the cab was on its way.

The major laughed at what he had heard. "You must be joking, Shrodinger! They've been lost for decades, and now you tell me that somehow they're back?"

Shrodinger nodded excitedly. "It's the truth, major! I heard it myself! I couldn't believe it myself, but I had heard! It is the truth!"

The doctor sneered, as usual. "Shrodinger, this had better not be like that time where you told us that you had found Der Furhers brain, and instead gave us the brain of that damned Jew."

Shrodinger gulped nervously before continuing. "Herr Major, Herr doctor, I tell you only what I heard! This is the truth! Any day now the Americans could undo all we have done!"

The major held up a hand for silence and thought. In seconds, he made a decision. "We will strike when we know their prize is secured. And Shrodinger," he said, pointing at the werewolf, "You will initiate."

Chest almost bursting, ears twitching madly, Shrodinger vanished, to get ready.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4- On the Potomac River

Agent Peter Gregs was storming through the halls of Langley, Virginia. On the way, he shoved several interns, pushed three more, blew off "friends" and simply threw open the door of the directors office. "Excuse me," the secretary scolded, "The director is very busy right now, and-HEY!" Firmly shoving her aside, Gregs simply threw open the directors door and walked in, trying to focus all his 260 pounds and killing experience on his boss.

"What is it, Gregs, I'm busy now," the director answered, calmly. He had seen this act before, and it didn't faze him.

"I just heard that you sent that desk rider Matthews on an assignment!" he screamed. "What the hell is going on? You know damn well I'm a better agent!"

"And I've seen your psyche profile. After your last few missions, I don't think you're ready to go back, especially on a mission this important. Matthews was due for this kind of assignment, that's why we gave it to him. Your orders are to wait here until you're deemed sound. Now, get out, and don't come back until you've loosened up."

Fists clenched, teeth bared, Gregs simply turned and stormed back out, cursing all the way. Staring at him, the director's secretary turned to the boss. "He's had a string of bad missions," he answered. "First Tehran, then Pyongyang. He just can't get his mind off his work." Head down, the director closed his door and walked back to his desk, burying his head in his hands.

The National Shrine of the Immaculate Heart of Mary was empty, aside from the few loyal Catholics and priests inside. "Not many are here," Yumiko observed. "Maybe America really is lost."

"Why do I have to wear this?" Wolfe said, oblivious to what Yumiko was saying. "I always feel so stupid wearing these damn things!"

Yumiko looked over at her companion. She really did look out of place wearing a nun's habit. "You have to, Heinkel-san. The people here notice such things more easily than at home. What's more, they would not hesitate to point such a thing out. You have to wear it for your own good."

Heinkel looked at her friend, then stared at the ground, praying the Hail Mary. Within minutes, both were well into a fourth Apostles Creed when a priest sat behind them. "Hello, sisters of Iscariot."

Without looking back, Heinkel answered, "Greetings, father Hunt." The trio sat in silence until the people closest to them left. "What news have you?"

"The Syndicate has made a move," the bearded priest responded. "We've learned that an American CIA agent was sent to Hellsing for no apparent reason. It could be the Syndicate is looking to upstage Hellsing, and possibly even Organization XIII."

"Do we have orders?" Yumiko asked.

"None yet," Hunt replied. "All I can tell you is to wait. Here," he said, giving the pair a card with the name of a hotel on it. "You can't stay at any convents or parishes. There are bound to be questions that you won't be able to answer. For now, just stay in this hotel." Rising, the priest started to leave. "Remember, Americans are much more observant than those back in Europe. Make sure you keep a low profile."

Waiting until they were sure Hunt had left, the pair of nuns exited the chapel. On the way out, Yumiko thought she saw a man smoking a cigarette entering the chapel, but shook that notion free. "No one smokes in God's house," she thought.

Following the directions exactly, the pair found themselves at the infamous Watergate hotel. "The Americans must have a sense of humor," Heinkel said wryly. "Otherwise they wouldn't have sent us here." Barely containing her frustration, she simply stormed up to the front desk, took her room card from the clerk, and stormed up to her room, throwing her clothes from her bag and focusing only on her weapons.

"Heinkel-san," Yumiko said, "Why is everything in this country so…so…"

"Barren?" Wolfe replied. "When America was first settled, it welcomed almost everyone of any background inside. However, with it came a cost. By allowing anyone in, they produced a land ripe for the plucking of the greedy and envious." She checked her magazines. "America had only one piece of land for Catholics, the state known as Maryland. However, even there, the Anglican Church spread their lies and hate. Within years of its founding, the Catholics were oppressed again." She checked the guns' actions. "Today they call America a land of equality, but its past is filled with slavery and oppression." Finally, she checked the sights. "Until they can face this past, the whole nation has no future." Satisfied, she placed her guns back in their holsters. "Now, whom am I speaking with?"

"Who do you think?" Yumie's voice replied, sarcastically. Placing her sword in the closet, she followed Heinkel out of the room.

"Is he stable?" the elder asked the tech.

"Just about, sir. He's still…you know, himself, but we've been able to curve the sensation to a more manageable level," the tech answered, not even daring to look away from his screens. "If you really need to, sir, we can make it so you can talk to him."

The elder was surprised by what he had just heard. As long as he had been a member, he had never even dared imagine talking to…_it_. Nodding for it to be set up, the trooper in the room nodded in acknowledgement, then grabbed a phone for the necessary preparations. In seconds, weapons teams came into the chamber, rifles and machine guns trained on the pure white figure. Slowly, the elder walked down into the same chamber, where he signaled for two troopers to place a small table in front of the being. "Can you hear me?" the elder asked.

It opened its eyes and looked around. What it saw had changed little from its last waking. Shaking its limbs, it found it was still held tightly be them. "Yes," it finally answered. "I can hear you."

"We finally have a mission for you," the elder said, pulling out of his coat a manila folder. "Should you succeed, it may mean-"

"I have heard to many broken promises," it said. "I am, from now until eternity, in your hands. Now what is it you require?" Taken aback, the elder threw the folder on the table. Seeing its targets, it's eyes widened with surprise, then narrowed with hate. "These are real?"

The elder nodded. "When you finish them, you will have a greater degree of leeway than before. Is that understood?" It nodded. "Good. You will commence operations in two days." Walking out, he paused only to say, "And should you fail, the consequences will be most severe."

It stared as the elder walked out. Then, it looked at the other men still there, weapons trained on him. Simply pulling his left arm free, he was greeted by a fusillade of bullets. "You still do not trust me?" he asked. Getting no answer, he simply backed up against the wall and waited until the men left. "Finally," he said aloud, "My chance to redeem my people."

The first elder walked up to the J. Edgar Hoover building and sighed. "I really need more assistants," he muttered, lighting another Morley. Striding in, he went straight through the main office areas. Some of the employees and agents saw this, but kept quiet. If the man had the gall to smoke in a government building, he must be important, and no one wanted to lose their jobs that way.

Walking straight to the nearest empty elevator, the elder went straight to the director's office, ignored his secretary, left on the man's desk a manila folder, then went away. The FBI director looked at his assistant, then at the envelope. When it didn't explode, he slowly opened it. Carefully examining it, he slowly read the papers inside, eyes widening. Jumping up, he yelled at his secretary, "Get me every available agent in the country, now!"

Schrodinger almost laughed aloud. "They call this the greatest form of government?" He was as confused as he had ever been, watching Congress debate endlessly about the situation of oil. "Just take it from them, you fools." He then appeared in the Supreme Court, where the judges wrung their hands over the issue of gun control. "They should do what Der Fuhrer did. Give the guns only to those who are willing to use them." Finally, he appeared in the Oval Office, watching the president and his secretary of state arguing over US foreign policy. "You're the superior, you weak moron, just tell him what to do." Giggling by now, Shrodinger went back to the Major, to report what he had found.

The aide looked up and started looking around the room, grabbing the attention of the two officials. "What is it, Tom?" the president asked.

"I thought…I thought I heard…"

"Heard what?" the secretary of state demanded.

"I thought I heard laughing, sir."


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5- For God and Country

* * *

Matthews dragged himself down the hallway to the mess hall, his suit a wrinkled mess. His brown hair was greasy looking and disheveled, and he sported a dark five o'clock shadow. With the added jet-lag, he had barely had time to adjust his internal clock to the time in England. Coupled with his mission the previous night, it was a wonder he could walk at all.

"Good evening!" Seras said cheerfully, popping out from the same mess hall. "How did you sleep?"

"How do you think?" he murmured, scratching his stubble. "You're snoring, plus my little…_revelation_ last night kept me up until noon."

"Snoring?!" Seras yelled back. "Who did you say snores, yank?"

Just then, Pip walked towards the Mess Hall as well. "Hey, there, agent! How was it?"

"You're an ass," Matthews replied. "You're the only one who did the 'new guy' joke, so you're the ass of this outfit."

Pip laughed hard, his ponytail flying with each breath. "That good, eh, mignonette?" he finally gasped. "I was hoping we'd find him running for Heathrow!"

Ignoring the mercenary, Matthews walked into the Mess Hall and went down the line, almost praying the pancakes were as good as Langley's. So, when he took a bite and found himself tasting peas, he gagged. "What the hell? Who eats peas for breakfast?"

Pip sat down next to him. "We eat at dinner now, you moron. Its almost nine o'clock."

Matthews wearily looked at his watch, then let his head fall into his "breakfast". "I really need a vacation." But eventually, his hunger got the better of him, and soon he was well into his second plate of pork chops and peas. "So," he said, mouth full of green and red, "Did you really plan that out last night, or was that all improvised?"

"Honestly? Improvised," the mercenary answered. "But it was still pretty damn funny, hearing what happened to you. To be honest, you had it easy compared to mine."

"Hey, why are you so worried about it?" Seras asked. "What does it matter if we played a little joke on you? It was all in good fun!" She said, grabbing a pack of medicinal blood and drinking.

Matthews stared for a minute before responding. "Look, I'm a geek back home, ok? My job is basically gathering info for the field. But my guy," he sniggered. "He must have joined because of James Bond. Guy didn't know a damn thing about the places we sent him. Soon as I got transferred, his mission ratings started going south." His grin widened. "Guy didn't exactly appreciate the intel I gave, and look where it gets us? He gets the nice, safe desk, I get to learn vampires exist. What a trade."

"At least you have a chance to get out," Pip answered, sipping his beer.

"What do you mean?"

"You're CIA. I've seen the kind of work you guys do in the world." He leaned in towards Matthews. "In Uganda, I heard rumors the CIA was supplying the rebels with weapons and money so they could install a puppet state. Other mercs said that the Agency was responsible for the Yugoslavia break-up, that you guys wanted the whole area to be a problem, keep Russia busy." He leaned in even closer. "I don't know what exactly you're doing here, but I know that you're getting out, and the rest of us are trapped forever. Nothing personal, but I'm doing everything I can to keep you here with us."

Seras had enough, and dragged Pip away, across the cafeteria by the ponytail. Entering the hall, she quickly frightened away the few mercenaries who were late for lunch and pushed Pip against a wall. To the human, it felt like a tackle. "Now listen, you, that man is here to help us. Already, he's done more work than you're entire team." She leaned in even closer. "I agree, this is suspicious, but we have to make do. Now, you're going to walk back in, sit down with your men, and eat quietly. Am I clear?" Pip could only nod.

* * *

The director of the FBI stood over the conference table, staring down all the agents that had gathered there. "People, this may be the most difficult assignment any of us has ever faced." He turned to the SMARTboard behind him, which currently had to women on it. "Meet Heinkel Wolfe and Yumiko Takagi, aka Yumie Takagi. Both are suspected in multiple mass murders all around the world of fringe religions, communists, and other political, religious and ethnic minorities. The only reason no one has been able to arrest them is one simple fact; both are protected by the Vatican." This sent murmurs going all over the table. "Now, I know what you're all thinking, and I've checked. Church record have no files on either of them, meaning that they're either radicals or they slipped through the net. Whatever the case, whenever we find them, we will capture them with all haste, is that clear?" A chorus of yeses answered. "Alright, lets split the teams and get moving, I want a full dossier on both in eight hours."

* * *

Integra just stared at the head of the Round Table. "Excuse me…did you just ask-"

"Yes, I did, Sir Hellsing. We want to know the capabilities of Alucard against any threat from the Americans."

Integra stared for a minute, then became serious. "As far as can be told, Alucard should have no trouble against our 'colleagues' in America. Their capabilities are minimal at best." She smiled a little. "They are like children in this matter."

"Regardless," the leader said, "Rumors are swirling that the Syndicate is preparing to make a move. Are Alucard and Victoria able to move to America on a moments notice?"

Integra nodded. "By all accounts, they should. Providing we have the proper precautions taken, that is."

The doors to the meeting hall opened, and Walter walked in, carrying a phone. Quickly, he handed it to the head of the Round Table. Picking it up, the gentleman only nodded. Then, slamming it down, he looked at Integra. "Sir Hellsing, it seems there is another freak attack, this one in Northern Ireland."

Integra sighed. "Again up north? Is the Major recruiting from the IRA now?" she sighed. "I'll have Seras and the CIA agent readied immediately."

"One thing, Sir Hellsing," the leader said. "That agent, Matthews? You must realize the Syndicate would never send over a mere field agent. Until you know for sure, do not trust anything he does or says."

Nodding, Integra hurried out, to make sure things were ready.


	7. Chapter 6

Chapter 6- D.C.

* * *

"Ireland! Freaking Ireland! The place my freaking family comes from, and I find out the IRA is the least of its worries! Jesus, this just keeps getting better and better," Matthew yelled, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Oh, calm down. I've been to Ulster before, and believe me, this isn't as bad as it was then." Seras flashed back to her first meeting with Father Anderson, and quickly repressed a shiver. "Be thankful the Vatican decided to respect the treaty."

Matthews pulled a double take. "Whoa there! Did you just say the Vatican? Did you just tell me that the Pope is in on this too!"

"Of course," Seras said, calmly. "Who else would know more about this than the Catholic Church?"

"Sorry," Matthews said, "But my parish priest didn't give me the memo."

"We're coming up on the area," the pilot of the chopper announced. "Get ready, we're going in hot."

The ghouls on the roof of the factory looked up idly at the approaching shape. To them, it seemed vaguely familiar. But the memory was gone too fast, and they soon concentrated on one thing; the smell of living flesh coming from it. Then, a series of small flashes came from the chopper, and just as fast, the entire rooftop erupted I flames.

"Hey, calm down there, girl! This isn't freaking "Apocalypse Now!"

Soon, the chopper touched the roof, and the pair ran out and into the building, meeting dozens of ghouls as soon as they entered. "So, you said the Vatican has a stake in this as well?" Matthews said, quickly following Seras as she did her job.

"Yeah," she replied, cutting one ghoul in half. "They're basically the founders of undead combat." She paused to reload her rifle. "You sound surprised. I thought after your first time out, you would've guessed."

"Well, when you're raised Catholic, you kind of grow fond of the Pope, you know?" He paused for a minute. "So, what, it's made up of priests and nuns?"

"Basically," Seras answered. She smelled the air. "Its only one freak, but he's strong. He must have struck an apartment or this factory, because he's already invulnerable." She kept sniffing. "About twenty- no, twenty-five people dead."

Matthews looked at the ground. "You know, I don't think I'll ever get used to this."

"I didn't think I would either," a heavily Irish voice said, "But I'm getting there!" With a speed that seemed to surpass even Alucard's, the freak burst through the floorboards and threw Seras to the other side of the hallway, then out through the wall. "Good God that felt good! I knew there was a reason I was IRA, to kick Britain's damned ass!" Suddenly, he became aware of Matthews presence, as well as the man's shaking knees. Figuring the man would run, the vampire simply said, "Boo."

Matthews immediately pulled up his MP5 and let loose, spraying the vampire with 9mm. For a moment, the vampire was stunned, then smiled. Quickly, he ran at Matthews, hand clutched around a huge knife. Then, as if anticipating it, Matthews rolled forward, then went flat on his back, gun up. It still wasn't enough, and he felt the blade pierce his skin. Quickly, he let off a burst, filling the terrorists chest with lead. The vampire, shocked, flew over Matthews, and skidded to a stop. Quickly, he leaped up and turned around. "Ah, that feeling of combat! Been awhile since I fought SAS!"

"I'm an American, you idiot! Now lay down your weapon and surrender!" Matthews quickly rebounded from the knife wounds he felt. "Maybe if you come away peacefully, we can find a way to reverse this!"

The man looked at Matthews, then started laughing madly. "Are you loony, yank?" he howled. "This can't be undone! Once you're a vampire, that's it! You're history!" Running forward, Matthews threw up his arms in a vain attempt to protect himself.

The blast brought them both back, and soon, Matthews found himself covered head to toe in blood. Looking around slowly, he saw a massive hole in a wall to his left. Looking through it, he saw the vampire hanging from some chains hanging from the ceiling.

"I've always hated the IRA," Seras panted, "They give us so much bloody work."

Matthews simply looked at the blood, then at himself, then at the vampire, and promptly fainted again. "Oh great," Seras said, "Now I have to carry him back to the chopper."

* * *

Heinkel and Yumie walked down the street, taking in their surroundings and making mental notes along the way of the most likely vampire hiding places. Then, they came upon a sight that made both freeze completely. In front of them was a church picnic, with a sign with the lettering, "Our Thanks to the Local Jewish Community"

"Easy, Yumie," Heinkel said nervously, almost feeling her friend's anger. Yumie, meanwhile, was rearing to go. She looked through the crowd and saw a rabbi, dressed in what she assumed was the most expensive clothes he could buy at the expense of the poor Catholics in front of her.

"Ah, fellow clergy!" the parish priest yelled, walking over. "A pleasure to meet you both! I'm Father Birch! Welcome to Saint Florian's! You're both in time for our annual carnival!" Both nuns eyed the priest for a minute. He was short, about 5'7". He was fat, but not morbidly so. As for the rest of him, it looked as one might expect a man in middle age. Silently, they followed him through the fair, listening to him drone on about how proud he was of his parishioners.

"So, father," Heinkel said, making sure to keep Yumie from getting any words in. "What's the explanation for the sign? What did the Jews do for you?"

Birch stopped smiling suddenly, turning somber. "A few weeks ago, before the carnival, we were robbed. They took everything of value and fled. We were left with nothing. Then, out of nowhere, the rabbi over there decided to donate as much money as he could spare to get us new chalices, candlesticks, even a tabernacle."

Heinkel and Yumie just stared at the priest, dumbfounded. In all their time, they had never once heard of such kindness coming from another religion. To them, any religion other than that preached by the Pope was to be eradicated.

The pair felt a presence behind them, and, turning, saw the rabbi behind them, fully regaled in Orthodox garb. "Hello, ladies!"

Slowly, the pair looked at each other, then back at the rabbi, smiling as best as they could.

* * *

Waking up, Matthews looked around to see he was in an infirmary. "I fainted again, didn't I?"

Seras, at the side of Matthews' bed, nodded. "Though I will say, you held out for longer than I would've expected."

Matthews nodded, and the pair sat in silence for a few minutes. "So," Matthews finally said, "Is this where the tour begins? Because if that's the truth I want my money back."

Seras giggled a little. "Alright, let's go. And keep close, or else you'll find out exactly where we have booby-traps."

Soon, they were well on their way through the facilities. Matthews was finally introduced to the rest of the Wild Geese, and saw exactly what their training consisted of. He saw the huge library Hellsing possessed, as well as some of their more open labs. "So, you guys have that…transformation method, right?"

Seras nodded. Looking around to make sure no one could see, she motioned for Matthews to follow her. Quickly, she led him down into the deeper parts of Hellsing. "Alright, what I'm about to show you is completely secret, got it? Anyone finds out, I'm dead!"

Matthews nodded. Quickly, Seras operated the keypad next to the door, quickly typing in a sequence of numbers, then leading Matthews inside.

* * *

"We have information on your targets," the elder said to it. "Do well, and you will receive the leeway."

It looked up, and slowly, its teeth formed into a smile.

* * *

Slowly, Heinkel started to enjoy herself, and Yumiko soon joined her. The pair was taken in by the almost uncaring attitude of the Americans, and soon they found themselves genuinely enjoying life for the first time in years. For the first time, both ate cotton candy. They savored the brand new taste of hamburgers. Both marveled at the rides that so many people were lining up to get sick on. After years of strict adherence to doctrine and religion, to actually have fun for once was a release.

That was when they heard the screaming. "What's happening?" Yumiko yelled.

A police car went by, sirens wailing. Soon, the whole carnival was staring in wonder.

It happened fast. First, the Merry-Go-Round was tipped onto its side. Then a food stand was broken open. Finally, Father Birch and the rabbi were tossed into the air, finally landing in a heap. Looking around for the assailant, Heinkel soon found it.

The man, if that's what it once was, was paper-thin. Bones showed from everywhere. The skin was so white, it seemed to reflect the sun. It's hair hung in tussles, and its face was long. "You are the ones," it said, before launching at them again.

Heinkel threw herself into Yumiko, throwing them both out of the way. "We have to get back to the hotel room!" She screamed.

Yumiko nodded, and the pair was soon off, running madly through Washington DC.

Eagles Breath smiled. It was finally the time he had waited for, the time to repay the Holy See for what it had done. Looking over the church, he was disappointed that he couldn't destroy it. But the chance to kill the two nuns would make up for it in more ways than one. After all, he was a man.

Then, police cars surrounded him. Officers leaped out, weapons drawn. "You! Lay down on the ground, hands above your head!"

Smiling, Eagles Breath started singing. It was an ancient song, one that had been passed by his great-great-grandfather on down. It flowed through the police, and soon, only the strongest of them were still focused. The others seemed to be caught in a trance, their eyes clouded and their minds useless. Ignoring the cries of the officers still alert, he tore through the police, striking down the ones who were weak. One looked like he was in a state of bliss as Eagles Breath tore through his neck with his fangs. Others tried to snap back, but couldn't. Eagles Breath felt the bullets of the other officers going through him. He relished it. It let him know he still existed. With a roar, he started tearing into them as well.

* * *

Matthews looked through the various tanks and vials that littered the laboratory. He saw bats of various sizes. Every so often, he came across a stack of papers or a computer detailing what exactly went on. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph," he said.

"Not exactly," Seras responded. Motioning, she showed him what he had asked about. "Here. All the freak chips we've collected. This is how our enemies create their pawns." She looked at the crate with utter loathing.

Slowly, Matthews reached inside and scooped up a handful of them. "You've got to be kidding me," he said. "This is how the enemy becomes our enemy? No way, this is complete bullshit," he said, letting the chips slip through his fingers. "Thanks anyway, Seras," he said. "At least I know what we're up against."

Seras nodded, and led him back to their room, to sleep off the effects of the previous night.

* * *

"The time nears," the Major said aloud. "We know where to start, correct?"

The doctor nodded. "As soon as it is ready, Shrodinger will go."

* * *

The Syndicate had hurriedly gathered in their meeting room. All fifty members were present, each from one of the fifty states. The most influential, however, were the ones from Maryland, California, Massachusetts, and Pennsylvania. "This is a major breach of security," the fourth elder, from California said.

"When was he released?" the third, from Massachusetts asked.

"I think that's a matter of hindsight," the second, from Maryland responded. "Right now we have to get him back into containment."

"I think it's a little late for that," the first, from Pennsylvania said, lighting his first cigarette. "We've confirmed that Iscariot has operatives advancing on him right now."

"What about our own men?" the member from Louisiana asked.

"They're already on the move to apprehend him," the first elder said. "As for the operatives from Iscariot," he said, putting out his cigarette and lighting another, "Let's have them test out Eagles Breath for real, to see what our work has done."

* * *

Heinkel and Yumiko ran through Washington, dodging and weaving through senators, lobbyists, generals and admirals. Behind them, barely behind the screams and gunfire, was the pure white creature that had attacked the church. "Heinkel-san!" Yumiko yelled, "What should we do?"

Thinking fast, Heinkel dove towards a man in a military uniform, reaching all over for a weapon. She couldn't even find a knife. "What kind of soldier are you?" she screamed.

The man simply shoved her off. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Looking carefully, Heinkel discovered she had, in fact, tackled a doorman. "Sorry!" she yelled, running away, "My mistake!"

Looking over her shoulder, Yumiko could see her partner behind her, as well as the white monster that had attacked them. Farther behind him were police officers, firing wildly, trying to hit the thing. Every so often a bullet would impact it, but there would be no visible harm. The creature would just keep running after them, still keeping its speed even. "Heinkel-san! Where are we going?"

"Where else, Yumiko! We're going to the authorities!" Leaping over a table, Heinkel had a plan already finished in her head. If a few cops couldn't kill the creature, chances were a thousand cops would at least distract it long enough for the nuns to get to the hotel, and more importantly, their weapons.

Suddenly, the doorman from the café landed in front of Heinkel, his legs bitten off, screaming madly. Turning, Heinkel saw the thing smile. Then, its mouth seemed to stretch across its face, and its teeth seemed to enlarge to the size of steak knives. With a roar, it seemed to leap across terrified dinners and almost killed Heinkel, if Yumiko hadn't thrown a chair at the monster. For a second the monster stared at the nun, stunned. Then, with a roar, it ran at her. Then a fusillade of bullets impacted with the monster. Turning, they all saw the police, weapons drawn. "Back away from the women and get down on the ground!"

Sneering, the creature looked at the nuns and growled, "You shall meet your fate soon." Spinning around to the police, the creature threw itself into them, the sound of bullets echoing in the street. Not waiting around to see the results, the two nuns ran for the Watergate.

* * *

Matthews was sound asleep when alarms started going off. Instantly, his mind shot to his plan, and he quickly grabbed his gun. Then, Seras rose up from her coffin. "That's the emergency alarm! Quick, we need to get to the briefing room!"

Throwing on a shirt and some jeans, Matthews trailed Seras, and arrived ahead of most of the geese. Sir Integra, Alucard, Dorenz and Bernadotte were already there, staring at a TV. On it, a white thing was throwing police officers and cars everywhere, sometimes pausing to eat them. "Where is this?" Matthews asked.

"Washington D.C.," Integra answered. Matthews simply stared in shock. "The creature on-screen is a wendigo, a creature very similar to a vampire."

"I'm guessing the locals aren't exactly equipped to deal with this type of crisis, oui?" Bernadotte asked.

"You're correct," Integra answered. "The report said that for no reason, it attacked a Catholic church, then chased two women through the city. Right now, they're trying to contain it, and failing badly."

"What does this mean, Integra?" Alucard said.

"It means that you and Ms. Victoria might be taking a trip. That won't be for certain just yet, but be prepared." On-screen, the creature picked up a police officer and tore him in half, just as a SWAT team arrived. In seconds, men surrounded the thing, weapons ready, some yelling for the thing to surrender. Without pause, it launched into them, their bullets having little effect.

* * *

Major Trent was one of those SWAT leaders, he and his men dressed as D.C. cops. They were drawn from every branch, trained to their breaking points, then even further. Their finally training was one-on-one combat with a ghoul, unarmed. Those that survived were told the real nature of the country, the world, and what their purpose was. Clutching the secret weapon tightly, Trent remembered for a split-second the life he had before. Then he focused on the mission, and nothing else. As soon as the van skidded to a stop, he and his men rushed out, weapons ready.

Eagles Breath glared around at the men. They were just doing their jobs, he realized that. But they didn't know who those women were. He wanted to get at them, but these men blocked his way. Along with the news helicopters in the air, he knew his secret would be blown. Then, he felt something deep within him. It was a feeling he had not felt in decades…quickly, he looked everywhere, trying hard to find the source. He knew only one thing could cause this feeling. He felt his strength being leached away, and quickly searched for the source. Then he realized the men in the black clothes were all masked, with pouches all over their clothes. The only way to find the source was to either give up or run at it. He chose to charge.

Trent carefully counted of the seconds in his head, and when he reached four, he and his men ducked low. One of the men wasn't quick enough, and had a good part of his arm ripped off. He didn't notice. What he was focused on was keeping the high-frequency alarm going. Having it hidden inside Eagles Breath's shamans' skull had been one of the elders idea. They decided that the heightened sense of hearing, combined with the "spiritual" sense of a medicine mans skull, was the perfect control on him when he was to be released. When Eagle's Breath got close enough, he whispered, "Your objective has changed. You're to test the Vatican agents; _No_ collateral damage!" Eagles Breath shot him a quick glance, then leaped away, towards the two nuns.

* * *

Matthews watched the events before him like he was watching himself from the outside. He saw himself watching the TV, in utter shock and disbelief. His face was a blank slate, his eyes glazed over. His mouth hung wide open, dust floating idly in.

Seras couldn't believe what was happening either, and was a little more vocal. "We have to do something about this, ma'am! That monster is getting out of control-"

Integra held up a hand to cut her off. "That's not necessary anymore, Seras. Did you see the monster pause in the middle of its attack?" Seras nodded. "That means the Syndicate is still active, and now, in control."

Seras didn't know what Integra was talking about, but decided her master knew what she was doing.

* * *

Yumiko was running for all she was worth for the hotel. "Please, Father, don't let Yumie come out! I'll never survive if she does now!" Even as she thought those words, though, she felt her other half trying to get out again. In the very depths of her mind, she heard Yumie's voice. "Let me out you weak fool! I can destroy this thing, and still get the sword! How much have we both been through, huh? I can take this thing!"

"No you can't!" Yumiko thought back. "We don't even know what that thing is! If we try and fight it without a weapon, we'll both die!"

"You don't know that," Yumie thought. "Maybe its all show, like the communists we faced. Did you think of that?"

"Yumiko! Focus!" Snapping back to the present, Yumiko saw that she and Heinkel were only yards away from the hotel. She ran even harder.

Eagles Breath was livid. He finally had his chance, and now he was told he had to hold back! He knew what would happen if he killed the pair, though. He saw the fate he would receive. Trying as hard as he could, he kept his temper just below explosive. Then he saw the hotel they were running to, and allowed himself a small smile. "So, they still stay the hypocrite."

* * *

The director was glued to his TV, as was everyone else in the CIA offices. He didn't care. He knew his people would still get the job done. What he was worried about was the impact this would mean later. The politicians would undoubtedly come into play here. "Is this a threat?" they would ask blindly. "Is this from Russia? China? Tell us. Tell us the answers we can't find ourselves. Tell us so we can tell the people, and then take the credit. Because none of you exist really. You're only mentioned in novels and movies. No one really cares about you except Hollywood." Pushing those constant thoughts from his head, he did check his reports. There was nothing there about the countries he thought of that had anything to do with advanced bio-tech. There was also nothing in the terrorist file, or the "home-grown" pile. To him, the thing was not in his files, and so, not under his control.

The director of the FBI was watching the same thing, and was almost immediately bombarded by politicians. "No sir, we don't have any files on such things…No senator, there are no indicating marks…Yes, justice, we do have snipers getting into position now." Finally having held them off, he looked over at the TV. Then he noticed something he hadn't before, and slapped his head for not doing it earlier. On-screen were the targets! "Then…who's the other guy?"

* * *

The Major watched contentedly as the battle played out. "Quite an interesting match, would you no agree, Herr doctor?"

The doctor nodded. "Such fine specimens always make interesting experiments. A wendigo has become such a rare thing now, with the exterminations. It certainly breathes life into the possibility for more…possibilities, does it not?"

The major nodded approvingly. "All in good time, Herr Doctor," he said, "All in good time."

* * *

Heinkel and Yumiko ran desperately through the hotel, the pain they felt from running being overcome by the endorphins that were flowing through their bodies. Behind them, Eagles Breath was ripping through the lobby, guests and staff cowering in fear, their terrified screams only forcing him on. The nuns were faster though, and when Eagles Breath finally caught up, he found himself face to face with two pistols, a katana, and two angry nuns.

Later, if anyone had asked what happened, Eagles Breath would say that the pair made the first move. Heinkel, however, would insist that the wendigo made a threatening leap. Whatever happened, the battle was fast and intense. Eagles Breath leaped at Heinkel, but Yumie pushed her sword up into his chest. Meanwhile, Heinkel let loose, her rounds going straight through the creature's head. Then Eagles Breath struck at Yumie's arm. Wounded, the nun screamed and dropped her left arm, her right barely holding on. Then, Eagles Breath grabbed the hilt of the sword, and, to the pair's disbelief, forced it up, and out of Yumie's hand. Then, he shoved Heinkel forward, his teeth tearing a long furlough into her side. Standing up and pulling out Yumie's sword, Eagles Breath spit out, "You both have promise as warriors," he said. "But you still have to find your spirit." With that, he leaped through the window and fled, leaving the two to hastily remove any trace of their weapons before the police arrived. Then they lay down, and tried their best to be in pain.


	8. Chapter 7

Chapter 7- Lies

* * *

The Major looked at the news footage with glee. Though Britain was his main target, he loathed America. To him, it was the first country to fall to the brown madness, the reason for its decline. He looked over to the Doctor. "The device is almost complete, ja?"

"Ja, Herr Major," the Doctor responded. "My team is almost finished with the work. After another day or two, it will be ready. Schrodinger, on the other hand…" He shrugged. "I don't know where I went wrong with that boy."

"You did what you could with the resources at hand, Herr Doctor," the Major answered. "We can only hope he comes through for us now."

Schrodinger looked at himself and sighed. He looked like a dumbkoff, especially in the clothes of an American teenager. The baggy pants and shirt felt completely oversized. He constantly had to hitch his pants over his underwear, only to have it fall back a few seconds later. "Grrrrrr, what is wrong with these Americans? Have they gone completely insane!"

A knock at his door announced the Captain was there, along with Lt. Van Winkle. Thankfully, Zorin wasn't there. Even though she was a fellow werewolf, Schrodinger always felt uneasy with her around. He snapped to attention, and instantly, his pants fell down. "At ease, there, Warrant officer," Van Winkle joked.

Fully embarrassed, Schrodinger quickly gathered his clothes together. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but these clothes are…are more than I'm used to."

Almost instantly, the captain grabbed a belt from his greatcoat and threw it to Schrodinger. Just staring at the giant, Schrodinger quickly applied to leather to his waist. "Danke, Herr captain."

"So, what will your job be when you get sent off?" Van Winkle said, laying back on Schrodinger's bed, humming her favorite opera. "God only knows what you can do dressed like that."

"Herr Major said that's classified. He said to not even tell Herr Captain!" Walking over to his mirror, he made the final adjustments to his outfit. "But he said that I can say it will be big. I'm being sent somewhere in the American West, that's all even I know now." Somewhat satisfied with the final result, Schrodinger was about to go off to the Major when the Captain grabbed his shoulder. Turning, he saw the captain holding the cap he would use to cover his ears. Grinning sheepishly, he took the hat and vanished.

"So, how many days do you think it will be before he makes a mistake?"

The captain held three fingers.

* * *

The warrant officer returned into existence in the main hangar bay of the base. The constant sounds of welders and metal rang from it day and night. Asking around, he finally found the Major and the Doctor standing next to a tarp. He quickly saluted.

"At ease, warrant officer," the Major said. "Well, we've kept you in the dark long enough, so now we are going to inform you of your mission." He walked over to the tarp and patted it. "Warrant officer, what is the worst thing on the battlefield for a soldier to feel?"

Schrodinger thought for a minute before responding. "Hunger!"

The Doctor whacked the werewolf upside the head. "No, you dolt! Fear!"

The Major signaled the Doctor to calm down before continuing. "You see, fear sends many thoughts through a soldiers mind. Will I see my family again? Will I hit my enemy? What if I don't have enough supplies? All are triggered by, or are triggers of fear. Do you understand so far?" Schrodinger nodded. "Well, civilians take fear even worse. They aren't trained in the same mental control as soldiers, making them weaker. Now, imagine if one of those civilians started spreading the fear in one of America's most famous cities?"

Schrodinger started to nod, then stopped. "Herr Major, what do you mean?" The doctor started pulling at the boy's ears.

"Gentlemen," the Major laughed, "Please, there will be time for that later. Befugnis-Offizner," the Major said, leaning in, "what is under this tarp will allow us to win again."

The Doctor signaled to some men on the scaffolds, who pulled the ropes that held the tarp, revealing the device. Schrodinger smiled. "When do I go?"

"In two days."

* * *

Heinkle and Yumie sat in the hospital room, hands on their knees, listening to the doctor who was taking care of them. "It's a miracle you both are still conscious," he said, in his Indian accented voice. "Those gashes in your arms would put anyone else in a bed for days. God must really be looking out for you." Taking off his glasses, he looked out the door at the two police standing outside. "Can you think of any reason why that thing attacked you?"

"The monster said something about repaying the Church," Heinkel answered quickly. She could feel the heat radiating off of Yumie. She knew that two religions in one day was pushing the absolute limit. "Did those police want you to find out for them?"

The doctor smiled sheepishly. "Well, they said to mention it as I was talking to you." He chuckled softly. "I must be a very pathetic liar."

Heinkel nodded. "That's good though. A poor liar is usually an honest man."

The doctor smiled at that. "Thank you, sister. That's the kindest thing I've heard today."

This caught Heinkel off-guard. More and more she was being drawn to the American way. She couldn't help herself. Their attitude towards life was so appealing to her she found it hard to remind herself of her mission. For possibly the first time in her life, she felt…at peace.

The police outside were listening as hard as they could for any snippet of information on the monster when a group of about nine men and a woman in suits and coats came walking through the hall. "Excuse me," the senior cop said, "Who are-"

"Ilyanya Cerkez," the woman in the lead said, "Special agent, Federal Bureau of Investigation. Those two women in there," he said, pointing at the room, "Are imposters guilty of international terrorism."

The two cops just stared, dumbfounded, not knowing what to do. In that instant, Cerkez threw the door open, brushed the doctor aside, and had his agents surround the pair. "Ms. Wolfe, Ms. Takagi, you are both under arrest, for the crime of murder, assault with a deadly weapon, manslaughter and terrorism." While she was talking, her men quickly went and handcuffed the pair, leading them out of the room.

The doctor finally found his voice. "Wait a minute! You need something like a warrant, or a paper! You cannot simply take patients from medical care before their physician has finished treating them!"

"Sir, rest assured, they will be transferred to adequate medical facilities while under arrest. If you prefer you can accompany them and monitor their condition, but that is the absolute limit."

"They are my patients, I decide what happens to them, and I say keep them here!"

Heinkel wasn't so much concerned about being arrested. Her concern was Yumie. Every second the handcuffs were on her wrists, her anger mounted. The more the agents pushed her, the more she resisted. Heinkel had to act, and fast. "Wait! Don't! My companion, she had a broken arm!" She looked at the doctor, almost pleading for confirmation.

"Uhhh…yes! Yes, she does!" he said, regaining his confidence. "She suffered a major fracture of the humorous bone! The only reason she isn't crying out in pain is due to a massive dose of morphine!"

For a second, Cerkez was going to believe the story. Of course, any hope of staying in the hospital was quickly dashed when Yumie threw one of the agents into a wall, and the other into Cerkez. The rest quickly drew their weapons. "Get down now!" and "Freeze!" echoed through the room, as the doctor and Heinkel quickly threw themselves away. What happened next was almost in slow motion. Yumie dove into one of the agents, missing a bullet by milliseconds. Then, the unmistakable sound of a shotgun cocking made Heinkel dive down into the doctor, throwing them both on the floor. A split second later, three separate shotguns fired off, throwing down three more agents. The rest were knocked out when Father Hunt and three priests came in, wearing baklavas and loose clothes, clubbing them unconscious. "Quickly, this way!"

Getting up, Heinkel quickly tried to grab Yumie, but before she could, the Japanese sister was on the Indian doctor, strangling him with her handcuffs. "Yumie, stop!" Her cries fell on deaf ears, and Yumie kept squeezing at the man's windpipe. After a few seconds, she pulled with enough for to break his larynx. Only then did she run out of the room with Heinkel. The hallway was in chaos. The two police were down, unconscious as well. "What are you shooting?" Heinkel screamed.

"Beanbags!" Hunt replied. "We can't kill anyone, so we had to improvise! This way! The cars out here!"

Running through the hospital, the group was careful to avoid the numerous FBI SWAT teams that were swarming the building. Making the task even harder were the healthy patients and staff who tried to play hero. The priests either swung their weapons like bats or fired at close range, and cries of pain carried through the hospital. In minutes they arrived at the back of the hospital, a van waiting for them. Leaping inside, they tore away from the hospital, Heinkel only staring at Yumie.

"Head's up!" the driver yelled, "Black and whites on our tail!" Looking out the rear windows, Heinkel did indeed see police and FBI cars trailing the van. "What now?" she yelled.

"What else?" Hunt said, reloading the gun. "We have to keep this under cover! As far as the public is concerned, you two are imposters! We have to get you out, now!" He grabbed at a walky-talkie. "Brother Larry! Lay the spikes!"

A half-mile away, a man driving a 1997 Ford Taurus pushed a button on his dashboard, and a small, almost invisible in the night strip of spikes was strewn across an intersection.

The priest driving the van put on a burst of speed towards the intersection, and for a few seconds, made the FBI and police lose sight of him. It worked. Other police, notified of the van's direction, had blocked off the intersection. In seconds, the spikes flew up, and the metal started to fly. One car hit the brakes too hard to avoid the spikes, and instead caused five others to ram into it and each other. One FBI car attempted to 180, but was T-boned by a black and white.

Looking out the window, Hunt said a quick prayer. "Why are you doing that?" Yumie asked.

"We may have taken innocent lives back there. If we have, I'm asking for forgiveness." With that, the group rode on in silence.

* * *

The members of the Syndicate watched silently as Eagles Breath writhed in agony, his shaman's skull on a table in front of him. All over, armed guards kept their weapons perfectly trained, firing shots every time he moved too much. "For the last time," the first elder growled, "Who gave the authority to release you!"

"I…don't…know!" Eagles Breath screamed. The leaders were growing impatient. Even after two days, Eagles Breath hadn't broken. "We need to find this information," the fourth elder said, walking away from the rest.

"Do you have a better plan to get the information out of him?" the first snapped, groping for his cigarettes. "Unless you have a way to directly extract information from a…_things_ mind, don't even bother bringing it up!"

"There is another option to get Eagles Breath to talk," said the second elder. "The option I have always favored."

The other three stopped instantly in mid-stride, staring at their partner. They couldn't believe what they had just heard out of his mouth, and so calmly at that. "We've been over this," the first elder said softly. "We can't do that, not now, maybe not forever."

"The destruction would be to great," the third said.

"The media and the people would discover everything, destroying all our organization has worked for." The fourth concurred. With that, the members of the Syndicate dispersed, going back to their separate works.

Through the pain, Eagles Breath glared at the elder who had fooled him. "Another broken promise," he thought, before another wail came from the skull. Then, is the massive pain, he looked into it's eye sockets. Instantly, he went back to his ancient village, reliving his most terrible day. "No…no! Please! Gitche Manitou, please! Forgive me! Forgive me!"

* * *

Integra looked over still shots of the scenes from the previous day, along with pictures MI6 had spirited out of the country. Each picture showed the same scale of destruction and horror. Police with limbs torn off, their faces in a state of bliss. Innocent people with terrible broken limbs and fractured skulls. Pictures from the Chruch were the worst. At least fifteen people had been killed by the creature, all with their hearts ripped out. Except for the priest. All that remained of him was the head, speared atop the church's cross on the roof. The rabbi that was next to him, by contrast, was only minorly injured, with heavy pyschological damage. "What am I missing?" she said aloud.

Elsewhere, Matthews stared blankly at his dinner, barely noticing the looks and stares of the Wild Geese. Idly, he twirled his fork in his mashed potatoes, not even bothering to eat.

"He looks really beaten up," Seras said, barely sipping her blood.

"What does it matter?" Pip said, shoveling food in his mouth. "He's probably seen and done worse. That whole desk jockey thing is just a cover!" He angrily bit into his corned beef. "He's just trying to gain sympathy."

"Well, guess what?" Seras said, pushing herself up, "He's got it!" Stomping away, she left Pip to stare at the massive dents she left in the table.

Matthews' mind, despite his physical apperance, was in overdrive. Every thought he had was concerned about his home and friends, and how it connected to the mission. Every day into it, something had come up, and a new secret revealed. "What's the connection?" he thought, twirling his evidence between his fingers.

"Hey are you-" was as far as Seras got before Matthews screamed. This, in turn, made Seras scream, making a few of Wild Geese jump or scream as well. Once things had calmed down, and Seras and Matthews had apologized, Seras sat down, Matthews quickly hiding the evidence. "Sorry."

"Its alright," Matthews said. "I've just…had a lot to think about…" he almost whispered, grabbing his water and taking a huge drink. "I…can't believe what I saw the other day."

Seras put her arm on Matthews' shoulder. "Don't worry, there wasn't anything anyone could have done to stop that thing from attacking." She grabbed a pack of blood and started drinking, making Matthews' green in the face. "Oh, sorry," she said, hurriedly stashing it away. "I keep forgetting you're still getting used to all this. Don't worry, it will all seem normal in a few weeks."

"That's the problem," Matthews said. "I don't want to be here any longer," he said, head down. "I'm worried about my family back home. If one of those…_things_ is out there, who says there isn't another?"

"We would have heard about it by now," Seras said, putting her hand on Matthews' "Don't worry, we can beat this thing."

Matthews looked at Seras, then grinnned a little. "Yeah, I guess so."

Jealous eyes looked at the pair, resentment burning in them, like a small inferno. A quiet rage kept building, waiting for the right moment to burst.

"Agent Matthews and Ms. Victoria, report to Sir Hellsing's quarters immediately. Agent Matthews, Ms. Victoria, Sir Hellsing's quarters." Quickly stashing their food for later, the pair sped to Sir Hellsing's chambers. When they arrived, they found Sir Hellsing waiting for them, smoke covering her face. "I need to talk with both of you, please," she said, motioning to two chairs, eerily reminiscent of their first meeting. Taking a seat, both looked nervously at their boss. "That incident yesterday has a lot of people worried, Matthews," she started. "Not the least of which is me. As the leader of the Royal Protestant Knights, I must know that all my agents are trustworthy."

Matthews couldn't contain himself. "Again with saying I'm _your_ agent! I'm not! I am an agent of the Central Intelligence Agency, okay! Not Hellsing, not MI6, not whatever 'conspiracy' group you're probably thinking exists! I'm just a man, okay! So stop digging, there's nothing to find!"

Seras, once more, stared at the events going on around her. Matthews had, once more, yelled at Sir Hellsing. And, again, Sir Hellsing just sat still, studying him. She was about to break for the door when Integra said, "Fair enough. You're right. Nominally, you're under the direction of the CIA. However, you are in my base, you have followed my orders, and you work with my agents. This all means you are, for the time being, under _my_ orders." Then the phone rang, and Integra only listened for a minute before hanging up again. "It seems there's been another FREAK attack, this one in London. A small shop in Piccadilly had its burglar alarm tripped. The police who responded haven't been heard from since. Both of you are to go now."

Quickly, Seras got up and left, but Matthews stayed behind. Not wanting to see what would happen, Seras kept going.

Integra stared into the agent, her eyes trying once more to bore into the man. "If you're trying to psych me out," he finally said, "It's not working." He got up and walked over to the desk, placing his hands on it and leaning over Integra. "Now, I'll believe what I've seen so far, but I know enough about the game to realize something else is going on here, and I'm part of it. Now, you can tell me what I want to know, or we can keep this charade up for as long as it holds out. Which would you prefer?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, Matthews," Integra said, returning to her work. "Walter will show you out now."

Before Matthews could say another word, he felt a small but sharp pressure on his neck. "Please, Agent Matthews, come with me. I would hate to…sever our friendship."

"Yeah," he said, nervously feeling the garrote around his neck. "That'd be a real…pain for both of us." Slowly walking to the door, he took one last glare at Integra before going off to prepare.

* * *

Seras was busy loading her rifle when Alucard appeared from out of the nearest wall. "Well, police girl? Is it true you and the agent are on your own?"

She looked at Alucard, confused. "Are we?"

Alucard only smiled his terrible smile. "So its true. You're both being sent out alone for the first time. You're growing in power. Am I correct?"

Seras stayed silent. Lately, it had seemed like she was becoming stronger, more adept with both her powers and weapons. She didn't know what to make of it, and she didn't like it. Despite her already long time at Hellsing, she hated the fact she was becoming more and more of a monster, her humanity fading away into nothing, despite how others treated her. "I can't really say."

Alucard just kept smiling. "Drink blood this time," he said. "You'd have nothing to lose. You need that power, you know its true!"

Ignoring her master, she simply loaded her rifle and walked out, Alucard still smiling.

* * *

When the pair arrived in Piccadilly, the area was a mob scene of civilians and police. The inspector in charge was barely keeping order, on the verge of tearing out what little hair he had left. When Seras and Matthews walked in, he was currently smoking an extinguished stub of a cigarette. "Oh! You're the specialits! Bout damn time!" He wiped his brow before continuing. "I don't know what's happening in that alley. Not only do we have lost officers, but five people are reported missing there as well." He tried to take a drag, discovering his cigarette had gone out. "The shop is connected to local gangsters, so we think it's a hit- hey!" he yelled after Seras, as she walked out towards the alley.

"Um, look, just keep your men back, and we'll go in!" Matthews yelled. "Whatever you hear, don't come in!"

Seras stalked through the alley, he ears tuned to any low moans or cries of pain. Like a feline on the hunt, she sniffed at the air, and at once was hit with the stench of death. Looking ahead with her vampiric eyes, she spotted movement in the distance that proved there were ghouls present. Carefully, she lined up her shot and let loose, pegging five and scoring six hits. She felt her blood pumping, her adernaline rush. She may have died, but she wasn't dying.

Matthews came up and watched from behind, and couldn't believe his eyes. He saw Seras' eyes turn red as fire. Her motions became more aggressive, more intense. The ghouls were slowly decimated, like she wanted them to last as long as possible before destroying them. "Holy Mother of God…"

A flash of movement came from Matthews left eye, almost invisible in the shadows. Spinning, he managed to dogde the FREAK that tried to kill him, pulling up his H&K. The vampire was quicker, though, and swatted it from his hands. "Nowhere to run now," it said, in a heavy Asian accent. With one great leap, it went after Matthews.

All Seras heard was the loud scream. Turning away from the ghouls, she saw the FREAK on the ground, writhing in pain, its hands on its face. Matthews lay on the ground, his right wrist held up, his left gripping something on it. Letting it down, she saw it was a small watch. "This is CIA," he said, slowly getting up. "Well…any guesses?"

"Probably a small-time yakuza trying to make it big," she said, looking carefully at the tattooes poking out from the man's sleeves. "It would make sense for the Major to get another race to do his dirty work." Quickly, she hoisted her rifle onto her shoulder and walked towards the shop. "Oh geez," she said, looking up at the sign.

Looking at it, Matthews didn't think it was that weird. In big bold letters it read "Hedden's Antiques and Furnishings!", and inside there seemed to be various pieces of old couches and tables. "So? What's the deal?"

"When I was a cop, we would get reports about this place all the time. They said it was a cover-op for illegal weapons shipping, but we never had any proof. And the owner…" she shrugged. "He a bit loony."

"Really, how is that any different than what I'm seeing now." Creeping up to the door, they took positions on opposite sides and, counting with his fingers, Matthews signaled to Seras when she should go in. Jumping inside, what caught Seras' eye was the dead FREAK laying on the floor. Then, out of nowhere, a flash of light and a boom sounded off. In disbelief, Matthews watched as she flew out of the doorway. "Holy shit!" He was silent for a few seconds, then, "Seras? You…okay?"

"Argh! That bastard! Look what he did to my uniform!" Matthews could understand why she was screaming, her whole chest covered in red. Leaping up, she tried to go in again, but another blast kept her back. "Get away from me!" said a voice from behind the front desk. "I don't care who you are, you just stay away!"

"We aren't here to hurt you," Matthews said. "We're specialists. We just want to talk."

The voice didn't speak for a few minutes, then, "American?"

"Yes," Matthews answered. "So, if we could- JESUS!" He yelped, as another round of buckshot went flying past.

"Get away!" the voice kept yelling. It was then Matthews realized the person was also American, from Philadelphia by the accent. "I knew it! You're trying to hunt me down! That's why you sent those things! I'm not giving up to the likes of you, you bastard!"

Matthews was at a loss once more to explain what was happening, so Seras did it for him. "You dumb bastard, come here!" she yelled, running inside. Leaping behind the counter, however, she saw a speakerbox and a shotgun rigged on a string. Before she could put the pieces together, a man came out from the back room, M16 in hand, firing as fast as he could pull the trigger. Seras could feel her back bleeding, each individual bullet entering. "What the hell!" She screamed, spinning around to face the new threat. Even then, she was too late, for the man had already ducked out of the doorway and out of sight. "Matthews! Stay out here! I'll get this plunker."

Watching as Seras stormed inside, still bleeding from her wounds, Matthews waited until he thought it was safe, then leaned against the side of the shop. "Why, God?" he asked, looking up at the sky. Finally relaxing for real, he tried to find the point in his life where he went wrong.

Suddenly, before his eyes, a metal grate beneath some trashcans opened, revealing a man, around 30, clinging to what looked like a SMG. Looking at each other, neither moved for what seemed like an eternity. Then, out of nowhere, Matthews jumped for the gun. His opponent was quick, though, and brought the gun up where Matthews' face was supposed to be. What happened, though, was that Matthews had quickly ducked from the bullets and went for his opponents legs, tackling him. By the time Seras came out, the two were deadlocked, grappling at each others throats. Simply pulling each other appart, she just said, "I think we all have something to talk about." Leaving the alley, police and EMS rushed in, clearing the bodies away from an unsuspecting public.


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter 8- Liars

* * *

Cerkez looked around the room at her team and couldn't help but sigh. Three of her men were completely out, two more injured enough to keep them out for a month, maybe more. That left her with nine people to investigate a crime with thousands of suspect. "Alright, lets get down to business. We've confirmed that the suspects are hostile and will fight. We've also found that they have well-trained and equipped allies. We have to treat this like a terrorist op now, alright?" The others nodded. Just then, a fax came into the room. One of Cerkez's men took it, looked at it, looked at it again, rubbed his eyes and then handed it to Cerkez. She stared at it with disbelief for what seemed like hours before speaking. "It says…it says all Church officials and personnel are suspects…" Her team stared as well, not comprehending that the largest single religion in America was now suspect. Running a hand over her eyes, she pulled out her cell and called her family. "Sorry, Mom, I'm not gonna be able to make it to mass this Sunday. Business came up."

* * *

The first elder and the elder from Louisiana sat silently in the meeting room, each clasping their drinks carefully. A battery of tests conducted by their own men had not revealed the drinks had been poisoned, but they still did not feel comfortable taking such a great risk. "The FBI has agents in pursuit of the Vatican nuns," the Louisiana elder said.

"I know," the first responded. "It's only a matter of time before the Holy See demands we get them out." He sighed, then looked carefully at his glass of whiskey. "How did it come to this? The Vatican were the ones who caused all this in the first place, getting the Nazis into South America."

"We gave them use of our banana republics," Louisiana countered. "It was our own fault for trying to believe it was war refugees."

Both stared at each other for what appeared to be ages, then broke out laughing. Gaining control, the first elder looked out into New York. "It must be nice," he mused, "living the way they do. They aren't tasked with keeping the world afloat." He looked again at his whiskey, then took a long gulp of it. "If only there was a way to remain immortal without the ghastly price."

"Nothing in this world is immortal," his partner rebuked. "To go against God's will is to invite His wrath. We of all people should know that." He sipped at his scotch and took a quick puff on his wood pipe. "I wonder how far our man is right now?"

"Probably in deeper than even _we_ realize. Exactly where we want him." With that, the first elder got up, his men surrounding him. "We'll join for the next meeting in three hours. We have to plan for their arrival."

Nodding his head, the elder from Louisiana took another sip of his scotch and sighed. "What if we're wrong, hm? What if we made our problems that much greater in using him?"

"Then we'll deal with him like all the other candidates," the first elder responded. "It's the only way."

* * *

When Schrodinger appeared back into existence, he was amazed at what he saw. The entire of the city was lit up like a carnival, the whole street a glittering torrent of light and sound. "Such an amazing city," he said. "Such a shame as well." Deciding to sight-see later, he focused on finding the perfect beachhead.

Returning back into existence just outside the main thoroughfare, he saw exactly what he wanted; blocks upon blocks of abandoned warehouses, derelict plants and fallen industries. "Vollkommen," he said. "Perfect." Pulling out his radio, he contacted base. "Zis is Schrodinger. I have found base. Send equipment to broadcast point." Finishing, he decided to take in the sights, before they were wiped away by the Majors plan.

* * *

Matthews walked nervously along the halls, careful to avoid any long contact with either the Wild Geese or other agents of Hellsing. He hoped he could get outside without anyone noticing, but he hadn't counted on Alucard. "Matthews. So good to talk with you again." Spinning at the voice behind him, Matthews sighed. "You can't just walk up to a person, can you?"

"No. It makes me feel far too human for my own good." He paused for a second to breathe in the air. There was no mistake, Matthews was afraid of him. However, though Alucard wouldn't show it, there was something different about the American. At first, Alucard had attributed it to simply being foreign to Britain. However, as time drew on, the scent not only remained, it became stronger, almost taunting him. "Sir Integra would like to see you in the interrogation room. It's about our latest catch."

Not knowing what else to do, Matthews simply followed Alucard along the corridors. "So, Vlad, what do you do around here?"

Alucard froze when he heard the name, almost speechless. "Wha-what did you-"

"I may ride a desk, but I'm not an idiot. Hellsing was the vampire hunter in Bram Stokers _Dracula_. Now, I may be American, but I'm not stupid. Not to mention the fact that there's a diary in the library that _exactly details _Abe's hunt and your capture."

Alucard just stared at the American, completely speechless by now.

"Though, I find it funny that _no one _else has figured this out; with all the British 'superiority' and shit." He said with a smirk.

For the first time, someone who was just initiated had discovered who he was. Not even _Seras_ had figured it out. But he couldn't kill the American, not yet. He would wait until Integra was done with him. _Then_ he would annihilate him. "Just come with me."

Alucard turned away to phase back to his master's side, and so missed the slight shimmer that passed over Matthews eyes.

In minutes, they arrived in a small room, Sir Hellsing, Walter, Seras, and Pip already present. Behind them was a one-way mirror, behind that the man they had captured. However, the man was calmer than expected, simply sitting on the chair provided for him, waiting for his first interview. "We've dug up his records," Integra said. "Name, Clayton Hedden. Former Lt. Commander, United States Navy, Seal Team Six. Moved to England five years ago, opened the antique shop. Since then, gun crime in the area saw a remarkable increase. Local police," she said, looking at Seras, "tried countless times to charge him with gun smuggling but could never stick the charges." She closed the folder on the desk. "He won't talk to anyone, not even Cpt. Bernadotte. We think he's hiding something about that FREAK attack. Matthews, short of torture, you are authorized to use any means necessary to extract the information from him, is that clear?"

Matthews decided to take a shot. "On one condition," he said. "I want just one night off, okay? No FREAKS, no vampires, no zombies, no dinner for breakfast, okay? Just pure, simple night off."

For a second, it seemed like Integra was going to jump down the man's throat and tear out his lungs. Then, "Of course. The Wild Geese are allowed rest and relaxation. I don't see why you shouldn't be entitled to the same privileges." She gave Matthews the folder. "Complete the interrogation, Matthews, and you'll have your night off."

Nodding, Matthews went inside. Looking over at the man, he sat down and stared. Finally, he started talking. "Well, Lt. Commander Hedden. Seems you've gotten yourself a reputation with the local police. Care to tell me how that happened?"

"Lt. Commander Clayton Hedden, Serial number 37420576."

Matthews sighed. "Look, we're not going to kill you, okay? I don't know what you've done for your country, but if you think we're after you, we don't even know who you are. Now, can you please tell us what you were doing there?"

Hedden looked up. "CIA?" Matthews nodded. Then Hedden flew across the table and commenced what Matthews would later call the worst beating of his life. Chops and upercuts ran wild on his face, while kicks and knees tore up his stomach. Even though Alucard instantly broke it up, Matthews was still in immense pain.

"What the hell is wrong with that bastard?" Seras said, watching the former SEAL try and fight her master.

"His file also says that after he left the mililtary, he had trouble readjusting to civilian life in the United States. Local residents and police were constantly filing reports about his tendency to rig booby-traps up on his front lawn. After five salesmen lost their legs, he finally decided to move to Britain." Integra looked up to see Alucard had finally disabled the man. "I'll talk to him personally. Walter, stay out here."

Nodding, the butler held the door open for his master as she went in to use her own touch in interrogation.

"Lt. Commander," she said, nodding as she sat down. The man barely looked up, focused instead on one spot on the table. "Why did those things attack you?"

"Lt. Commander Claton Hedden, 37420-HEY!" he screamed, as Integra grabbed him by the collar and slammed him down on the table. Finally realeasing him, she sat him back down and glared at him until she was ready to speak again. "Now will you talk? Or do I have to call your old friends in the CIA?"

She hit a nerve. Suddenly, information started pouring out. "Okay! Look, those guys, they were buyers for my guns, okay? Pistols, SMGs, rifles, anything that went boom, they bought from me. Then, last night, they just waltz in demanding my entire stock. Course I didn't believe them, then I saw those...zombies outside, so I grabbed the shotgun and started blasting, okay! I mean, I knew the government wanted to get me, but really, using super-soldiers? That's tech even we don't have! Even when I was in Brazil and Argentina I-"

Integra looked up at that. "Wait! You say you were in Argentina and Brazil? What did you do there?"

Hedden didn't talk for minutes, then continued. "The governments there wanted us to take care of some rebels. In return, they squeeze their drug traders sending the white stuff up our way. But it was weird in those rebel camps, dig? I mean, we found all kinds of things, like some with swastikas and Nazi gold. No one wanted to say it, but we knew something about that place was just screwed up. That's when I finally got out."

"You say you killed that hitman on your own? What about the other?"

"Oh, the other yakuza? He hightailed it out when I started shooting! Heard a scream a few minutes later, but thought it was another one of his 'victims', ya know?"

Integra sat, lost in her own thoughts, trying to grasp the implications of what she had just heard. Then, with a sudden flurry of motion, she sprang up and left the room, going straight back to Walter. "I want him outfitted and armed immediately. Seras, you will train him. Matthews, you will come to my office in three hours. Captain Bernadotte, you will take him as a member of your forces until I deem otherwise, is that clear? Good." Storming away, she went back to her quarters, to try and figure out what the Syndicate wasn't telling anyone else.

Hedden just sat at the table, eyes wide, also trying to figure out what was happening in his life. Just then, Walter walked in. "Please, sir, if you would follow me?" Carefully, Hedden followed Dorentz, watching his surroundings, waiting for the kill team. "You are lucky. Normally we would use hypnosis and other methods, then put you back on the street. You have good potential if Sir Hellsing has allowed you to live."

Hedden just kept looking around, trained reflexes ready to spring at any sudden movement by the man in front of him. Without warning, an object went flying past Hedden's head, and he pulled out a switchblade from his pocket, cutting and stabbing it until it was deflated. "Wait...what the-?"

"Hey, you idiot! That was our only soccer ball! Now what will we do!" Looking over, Hedden saw men in uniform, glaring at him, some with rifles. "Hey, you guys...you were in Ugnada! You were fighting for the government!" Putting on sudden burst of speed, Hedden dove behind a corner, blade close, waiting for the right moment. Then, out of nowhere, his blade somehow fell onto the floor, the pieces glinting in the sun. "I told you to follow me," a german voice said behind him. Eyes wide, Hedden just followed, assured his destruction was imminent.

"Who was that?" one of the Geese asked.

"He's the only survivor from the FREAK attack last night," the Lt. Commander said. "He even managed to kill one. We've never even done that." He left it at that, letting his men stew over the implications.

* * *

Yumiko looked over the squaller that was so close to the capitol and sighed. "Maybe Heinkel was right," she whispered, heart heavy. They had been running from the feds for about two days, and they were now in a small safe house in the downtown Washington. They had already been assaulted three times and had been shot at with an innumerable number of bullets. So far, they had been blessed enough to not have been struck, but she was unsure to how to Yumiko. "How do you feel?"

"Fine," she said. "I'm just resting up for now. The escape was…more than I like to see."

Hunt nodded, remembering how her other half had "taken care" of the Hindu doctor. "Don't worry, the FBI are hardly so efficient. If we lay low, the heat will surely pass."

Neither of them noticed a small red bead of light shine onto the floor behind Yumiko.

Heinkel, who had been silently fuming in her room up to this point, finally decided to make a reappearance. "How can you be sitting here just talking about your stupid _problems!_ We're in the middle of a _warzone_ and all you're talking about are your ridiculous _feelings_?! We should try and find that monster, not sit and sing kumbiya!" She continued on like this for a few minuets, with Hunt and Yumiko weakly trying to calm her, right up to the point when the stained glass window behind them shattered inward in a beautiful but deadly shower of glass and metal, quickly followed by three men in black S.W.A.T uniforms.

A giant spike of metal pierced the main doorway of the church and spread apart into a giant grappling hook, which then ripped the doors clean out of their frame. In stormed nine more S.W.A.T. members, each armed with a P-90 SMG, all yelling a screaming at them to 'DROP TO THE FLOOR, NOW!'

Knowing it was all over if they were caught, the trio ran for the back door, but then remembered it was locked and chained from years of neglect. It was there they were shoved to the ground and tackled, fighting all the way.

As soon as they had been subdued, three agent is bullet proof vests walked in, guns drawn, and were quickly followed by another agent in full S.W.A.T gear, sans the helmet.

"Hello, ladies and gent. I'm pleased to announce that all three of you a re under arrest." Agent Cerkez walked forward and placed cuffs on all three of their wrists.

Looking out of the corner of his eyes, Hunt saw his other priests loading their weapons, ready to fight. Shaking his head slightly, they reluctantly withdrew into the ghetto, waiting for the right time.

As Cerkez pulled them to the armored van, Yumie bit out angrily, "How dare you arrest His servants, heathen! He protects those who follow His will!" Cerkez chuckled and shoved them into the van. "You will pay for turning against Him!" Cerkez now started to outright laugh. "What?!"

"Sorry, girlie," she said through her chuckles' "But I'm," She pulled out a silver chain around her neck, and from it hung a Miraculous Medal and Crucifix, "A devout Roman Catholic."

All three of them dropped there jaws as Cerkez slammed the door and gave the driver the go ahead signal.

* * *

The old man watched the footage silently, making mental notes about the incident and the newest foe. "What news do you have?" he said to one of his men, who was surprised to find his leader knew he was there.

"Um, the FBI has arrested three agents of Iscariot. Our best was there, they said it was the nuns from the incident were there that night."

The old man silently nodded. Then, after a few seconds he said, "Mark the incident, send our best a message to interview them, cross-check their responses to who we have in our records." With that, he went right back watching the monitors, almost statuesque.


	10. Omake

**Announcer: And welcome to this special edition of Comedy Central© Stand up, with the venerated ventriloquist, Jeff Dunham, live from Hellsing Manor!**

**(cheers)**

Jeff: (walks onstage) Thank you! It's great to be here tonight, and a special thanks to the lovely lady Integra for inviting me to be here tonight!

**(Cheers)**

J: Well let's get right to it with my old pal, everyone's met someone like this, Walter!

(Cheers)

Walter Donlez: ?

J: How you doin' Walter?

PWalter: Eh, I'm pissed off.

J: Why?

PW: We're her in Fucking England to do a fucking private show, and I still have to deal with my retarded 'Friends'.

J: You know Peanut just means well.

PW: When he gives me a whole thing of lotion for Christmas?

J: Uhh, right.

PW, anyway, this is the place with all the monsters, right?

J: Yeah.

PW: Well, I got a really scary monster for them.

J: Yeah? Who?

PW: My Wife.

WD: Well that's not very nice.

PW: Hey, you're Walter too, right?

WD: Yes.

PW: Well, I'm Walter.

WD: Yes.

PW: And you're Walter.

WD: Right.

PW: And we're both angry old guys.

WD: Yes.

PW: Gotta Wife?

WD: No.

PW: Want one? She probably wouldn't be able to tell the difference!

Jeff: And that's Walter! (Cheers) And now for another good friend, and my manager, Big Daddy J!

BDJ: How ya'll doin' tonight? (Looks out to the crowd) Whoo! Would ya look at the owls on that fine little beauty!

Seras: What?

J: She's one of the Vampires, Daddy J.

BDJ: So that sweet little thang right there is a vampi-ur.

J: Yes, Daddy-j.

BDJ: And they don't have to sleep at night, right?

J: That's right.

BDJ: Hey girl...you interested in making a few extra dollars?

Seras: *Twitch* (Halconnen) BOOOOM!

J: And… that's Big Daddy J? Umm, here's a Superhero I got acquainted with awhile back, Melvin!

Melvin: Nice to be here!

J: Can you remind these people who you are?

M: I am a superhero!

Alucard: Oh really? Can you stop a speeding bullet?

M: Once!

**A: **Let's try it. (Jackal) _Cha-chick_ BOOMBOOMBOOMBOOM

J: Umm, How about Achmed, The dead terrorist!

Achmed: Glad to be here, Infidel. Where are we?

J: The Hellsing organization, at Hellsing Manor.

Ach: Wait, isn't the leader of this group a woman?

J: That's right, Achmed.

Ach: Is she a virgin?

Integra: Yes...

Ach: One down.

I: *twitch* Who are you?

Ach: I am Achmed, and I am a suicide bomber.

I: So you're dead?

Ach: Yes

I: But you alive

Ach: Yes

I: So you're undead?

Ach: I guess so.

I: In the name of God and her Majesty the Queen...

Ach: Wait what are you doing?

I: All a souls of the undead will be banished into eternal damnation,

Ach: Wait!

I: *BAMBAMBAMBAM* Amen

J: Um, He wacko, but we all love him, Peanut!

Peanut: How are you Jeffafa?

J: Peanut!

P: What?

J: Be nice.

P: Am I pissing you offafa?

A: Yes *Blam!*

Jeff: Well, Uh, that's all the time we have for today… I'm outta here! (Runs away.)

Integra: Well that could have gone better…

**End.**


	11. Chapter 9

Chapter 9- Revelations

The Syndicate elders once more gathered in their meeting place, looking over their notes and information before the formal commencement. Eventually, the leader called for order. "Alright, let's make this quick, we all have out own projects. International operations?"

"The teams in India report another lair has been destroyed," said the elder from Wisconsin. "Around ten, all eliminated."

"Russian teams are following up reports that some individuals are being sheltered by Siberian villagers. We expect them to learn their lessons very quickly, hopefully before its too late," said the elder from Oklahoma.

"What about domestic?"

"Still no information on Eagle's Breath," said the Maine elder. "As far as can be told, it may have been a false positive."

"Iscariot had its agents captured last night. We expect interrogation to commence any hour now," said the Florida elder.

"Our foes have been too quiet," said the elder from Alaska, finishing the briefing. "It appears that they just vanished, hardly anything has come up about them."

"And South America?"

"Reports suggest that Millennium is holding its position, keeping a low profile on its international movements of chips and men." Leaning back in his chair, the Louisiana elder silently smoked his pipe. "They've been very quiet as well."

The first elder nodded. "And our worst?"

"Security is still held firm," the third elder said. "The orders still stand; no one member can any longer authorize release. It would require at least fifteen of us to make that happen."

Silence descended on the group. None wanted to bring up the two most horrifying possibilities that would face them. If either came to pass, it would mean the end of their organization, and possibly the nation as a whole.

"What about our agent?" the elder from Alaska inquired.

"We know he has penetrated deeply into Hellsing," the second elder answered. "With any luck, he will be ready anywhere from five days to two weeks." Looking at this watch, the elder got up. "Well, that should be all, everyone. We have to get ready for Hellsing to arrive, so I recommend we get everything ready. Meeting adjourned."

* * *

"Are those _nuns?" _asked an incredulous rookie. Nearby, Agent Cerkez looked up from her case file with a small frown.

"Yes, and shouldn't you be burying yourself under a mountain of paperwork?" The rookie blanched and hurried off, Cerkez watching with a small smirk. A knock on her office door, however, caught her attention.

"Got the papers, boss," said one of the older agents. "You take the women, I'll take the guy?" She shook her head.

"Sorry, Rawlins, but you don't know how to deal with these kinds of people. Let me handle it."

Rawlins scratched his head in confusion, shrugged, and left the room.

Flipping through the case files, Cerkez walked into the interrogation room, where all three of the convicts sat at the end of a long table. She dropped the case files on the opposite end and sat down.

"Alright," She began, "You, Father Hunt, have no known affiliation with any terrorist groups, least of all Iscariot, but I'm still going to have to keep you here until this investigation is concluded." She shifted her gaze to the two nuns, "You two, on the other hand, are connected to terrorist activities all over the world, including an interesting little attack on one 'Hellsing Manor', led by a 'Paladin' priest of the Iscariot Organization by the name of Alexander Anderson, and have been connected to over a dozen attacks all over the world, all in nations with multiple major religions other than Roman Catholics, the most pronounced being the Protestant Church. Now, is all of this true?" The Two nuns looked away from her, Heinkel with contempt, Yumiko with regret. "For the record, I know all of this is fact, I just want some conformation, Sisters Yumiko and Heinkel."

With a sharp huff, Heinkel nodded.

"Good, we're getting somewhere." She flipped a page. "Now, tell me why you arrived in the U.S. at approximately 1045 hours on Tuesday, April 2, 1998?"

Yumiko folded her hands. "We we're sent to find the root of a secret organization that has corrupted America to its core, an organization known as the Syndicate." Cerkez let out a snort of laughter.

"The Syndicate has been defunct for nearly twenty years. Try again, Sister."

Heinkel glared at her. "No, Heathen, the Syndicate is _not_ defunct. They went underground in 1975 to cover their tracks so they could continue their work."

"I thought I told you, I'm a devout Roman Catholic." Cerkez said with a frown, "Stop calling me a heathen." Heinkel let out a barking laugh.

"If you were as devout as you say, you would allow us to continue our work unimpeded! Our mission was handed down to us from His holiness, the Pope, himself! You would not be holding us in this…" Cerkez slammed the case file shut with a bang, effectively silencing her.

"Now listen here, Sister," She said with a sharp growl, "I would have no problem letting you continue your work if it was truly a mission from his Holiness…"

"Then let us go!" Yumie shouted, but she shrank back as Cerkez stood up sharply, knocking over her chair, and slammed a fist on the steel table.

"SHUT UP!" She shouted, "**I wasn't finished**_._" She growled, her anger swirling in her carmine eyes. "I would have no problem with it if the **innocent bystanders who know nothing of our world were not getting killed!"**

All three of them stared at her, slack-jawed. "O-our world?" Father Hunt stuttered.

"Yes, Father, _**our world**; _the world of monsters and killers, the world where demons exist, the world where things really do go bump in the night." She drew the Silver Saber than never left her side. "The world where the damsel is not always in distress and the Knight is not always in Shining Armor, where the endings aren't always happy, and the blood stains your hands until the day you die." She held the Saber forward, showing them the inscription by the cross guard;

"_In nomen Abbas quod Filius quod Flamen, totus immunda bestia vadum exsisto profugus ut profundus Abyssus incultus Astrum exuro gelu Polus cado." _Yumiko read out, shocked, "Which translates to…"

"In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, all unclean Beasts will be banished to the deepest Hell until the Stars burn cold and the Heavens fall." Cerkez said with narrowed eyes. "This Saber, _Fidelacchius,_ was forged from the Silver Chalice that was discovered beneath the Wailing Wall during the Forgotten Crusade in 1200 AD. It was blessed by Pope Alexander IV in 1260 AD. For most of my life I've been slaying the unclean monsters of this world, and I've seen what they can do if they're not stopped." She sheathed _Fidelacchius_. "Now, I'm going to ask for you all to be completely honest. **Why are you here?"**

"We are here to protect the innocent from a threat that they do not even know exists." Yumiko said quietly. Cerkez righted her fallen chair, and sat back down.

"Exactly. You need to **think **before you act, Sisters, or people will get hurt." She reopened the case file. "Tell me about the Iscariot Organization."

The three spent the next few hours describing the Organization and all is actions, carefully omitting the genetic experiments and somewhat terrorist-like view on all non-believers.

"Thank you for cooperating," Cerkez said when they were finished. You will now be escorted back to your quarters." She picked up the file and left the room.

* * *

Cerkez left the FBI building with a sigh. 'This isn't good,' she thought, 'America was the last haven for those seeking freedom from the Iscariot and other corrupt organizations.' She pulled out her cell and dialed. "Hey, Greg," she said once the other end picked up. "Is _Papá_ awake?" She said with a snicker.

"Ilyanya? Is that you?" Came a slightly sleepy male voice.

"Yeah _Papá_; I'm coming home for a few days. Keep the light on for me."

"Alright, _innamorato_, just try not to bring you work home with you this time, okay?"

"_Papá_, you know sometimes I can't help it. _Buona'notte, Papá._"

"_Buona'notte, innamorato_" He hung up.

She looked up at the setting sun, fingering the hilt of her Saber. "Time to go to work."

* * *

Hedden paused to reflect on how amazing the human body was before landing on the ground with a thud, the blond before him smiling coyly. "That's for shooting me," she said, sneer on her face, like a lioness, ready to pounce on weary prey.

"It was a dark alley. How the hell was I supposed to know who was there!" he growled, before launching himself at Seras, going for the knees. Then, in a blink, he grabbed nothing but thin air. "Whu- how!"

"Up here!" said a female voice, before Hedden felt the weight of a car land on top of him.

"Jesus!" he screamed, feeling the disks in his back barely hold the pressure of the force above him, the rest of his body being shoved into the ground. "You know," he said, his voice muffled by the dirt, "It might be easier to get me trained if you let me fight _human beings_!"

"Sorry," she answered, pulling her foot off the Seal's back, "But Sir Hellsing's orders were explicit; 'Train him, or you're going on assignment in Belfast'. And I have had enough of IRA FREAKS, thank you."

Pushing himself up, Hedden looked across the grounds to see the skinny guy from the interrogation in civies, walking towards the main entrance. "Hey, why's he leaving!"

"He's allowed to," Seras answered, looking over. "He asked, he got permission, and he's going. Simple as that-hey!" She yelped, turning to see Clayton had dug a Bowie knife into her back.

"You bastard," she said, before hoisting him up and tossing him into some rose bushes. "And you say you were Special Forces!"

"Well, they taught us to take advantage of opportunity…" he whispered, before passing into a semi-conscious state.

* * *

Walking towards the gate, Matthews felt his spirits soar high above him. Outside the gate, there lay the normal world, the world where bloodsuckers were only myth. The world where British figureheads were just that, figureheads. The only place where a man could say the word "freak" and not mean an acronym. Just a few more steps…

"Matthews," said a stern female voice behind him, only inches from the gate. Cursing his luck, he turned to see Integra striding towards him. "I need to advise you of certain instances that might arise."

"Come _on_!" he groaned, spinning on his heel. "Why the hell do I need to keep hearing this _useless_, _insane _crap, about how _everything _in the city is connected to some _Nazi conspiracy_, that probably doesn't even exist anymore!"

"Because," she said, putting her face inches from his, "You're on the map now. I've just received information from MI-6 that the IRA has put a contract out on you, no doubt because of your…_stellar_ services to the crown." She lowered her voice, hoping to reach him. "I warn you, be ready for anything. I won't be there to save you of you need it."

Matthews snorted. "I think I can handle myself, especially after what you've put me through." With a final huff, he walked off, getting into a cab so graciously provided and rode off.

Integra sighed, then turned to some shadows. "Did you attach it?"

Pip walked out and nodded. "Oui, ma'am. Wherever he goes, we can track him."

"Very well. Follow him very carefully. These papers," she said, pulling them from he coat, "Will allow you to search any building he enters."

Nodding, Pip signaled to the men nearby, and they gathered into an armored car and drove off as well, to keep tabs on their _very_ annoyed target.

"He's gone," the man in the bushes said. "Red colored cab, white trim."

"Roger," his walkie-talkie squawked. "We're ready here, now get out."

Nodding, the man scurried away, back to a waiting motorcycle.

* * *

After thirty minutes, Matthews found himself in the famous Piccadilly Circus. In his opinion, it was an attempt to come close to the grandeur of Time Square back home. The biggest difference was the volume. The crowd was barely that, being spread out more greatly than any city he knew back home. But he didn't dwell on the thought. He had a job to do, and he only had so much time to do it. Looking around, he saw his first target.

It was a slow night, there were no holidays coming, and the bakery was alike to dozens of others. It was almost a miracle it remained open at all, at least to the people who didn't know the owner. Walking in, Matthews placed an envelope on the counter. "I'd like to send a cake to 1 Chester Innis Avenue."

The bored clerk suddenly looked up with surprise. "Of…of course sir…what kind?"

"Chocolate with vanilla icing."

Now the clerk was wide awake and alert, quickly boxing the cake and taking the note. Slightly scared, he looked up and asked, "Is that all sir?"

Matthews nodded. "Yes, that's all. Have a good one," he said, walking back onto the street.

There were three more stops that night, one to a custom tailor, with a suit and envelope to be sent to "Collins I. Arkam", a flower shop with a letter and bouquet for "Clara Iris Arne", and a butcher, with an order of pig for "Christopher Ian Arquette".

"Argh, that arrogant bastard," Pip said, looking through his binoculars. Now he had _four_ shops to search, and with no time to lose. "Get Squad _Georgette_, have them search the butcher for the fools letter," he growled.

"Captain," his second said, "Why are you getting so worked up over this? He's only an American, and a CIA man at that! We can easily deal with whatever he's planning."

"It's not that," Pip snapped, "We can't trust anything he does! Americans," he sneered, "They always expect something, whether they help you or not. They're a mercenary country, nothing more than a loose pack of wilds dogs!"

"Oh, come now, captain!" one of the men said. "Remember that time we were called to cover the coyotes down near Texas? I'd say those American girls are more than friendly!" he laughed, some of the other joining him.

Pip only snorted, and went right back to watching Matthews. He was lucky enough to see him plough straight into a woman at a mailbox. "Ha," he whispered. "Mister high and mighty CIA can't even watch where he's going." Then a thought came to him. "Hey, who's scanning the rooftops?"

"Oh jeez, I'm sorry about that," Matthews said, picking up the woman's scattered letters. "I didn't see you there."

"No, its quite alright," she said. "Thanks for getting those."

"Hey, don't mention it." He said, before starting to walk away.

"There you are," a voice on a roof said, the man clear in his sniper scope.

When the shot rang out, everyone heard it, the sound clear as day. Screams carried through the crowded market, and the smart ones ran for cover. The police called for reinforcements, and the Geese broke position, gunning for Matthews.

And, in all the confusion, the young woman never noticed the extra letter saying, "Office of the Director of Central Intelligence, CIA Building, Langley, Virginia, USA". Nor did anyone notice that, a split second before the round entered Matthews stomach, a silver sheen covered his eyes for the briefest of seconds.

* * *

Matthews awoke to strange muttering and the slight beeping of a heart monitor. Knowing it was better to listen in, he schooled is breathing into an even rate and listened.

"How long?" That was Integra.

"A few days, maybe more." A doctor, maybe? He couldn't tell. It certainly wasn't one of the mercs.

*Sigh*"We need to make preparations. I don't know if we can contain it. We've never dealt with something like this before. What can we expect?"

"Well, he _is _the last…" There was the sound of rustling paper. "Heightened reflexes, incredible strength, all six senses heightened, superhuman healing, as we have already seen evidence of, and the Hunger."

"The Hunger? I assume that that is the name of his need to feed?"

"Affirmative. Until he gains control over it, he needs to be secluded from all contact with the opposite sex."

"I see. Inform me when he awakens."

"Yes sir."

Matthews figured this was a good time to 'wake up'. He sat up on his hospital bed, and took notes on his surroundings. He was alone in the infirmary, with only Sir Integra and the unnamed doctor. The doctor came to his bedside.

"Agent Matthews, how are you feeling?"

He stretched, and replied, "Not bad, Doc, which is pretty surprising. I don't even remember what hit me."

"That would be a 50 caliber round from an M107 sniper rifle. It hit you through the stomach." Matthews blanched.

"But, th-that should have killed me!" The doctor and Integra just shared a look.

"Matthews," Integra began, "Have you ever noticed anything odd about you healing process? Wounds that should have taken days only taking hours to heal?"

Matthews thought about it. "Now that you mention it, I once broke my wrist when I was a kid. Bone was sticking out and everything. But by the time I got to the hospital, the doctors said it was just a fracture. But that doesn't mean much. A 50 cal would have torn out my entire mid section." The doctor grimaced. "What?"

"Agent Matthews, it did." Matthews eyes widened.

"That's impossible!" Integra sighed. "WHAT?!?!"

"Matthews, must I demonstrate?" She took out her saber and, in a careful, practiced movement, drove it through his neck.

He choaked. "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING YOU CRAZY BITCH?!!" She withdrew her blade and carelessly wiped it off on a handkerchief.

But even as she did, the wound closed.

Matthews sat in shock. "How?"

"Easy," The doctor gave a humorless grin. "You're a Vampire."

Have you ever seen someone lose it? The others in the room where given a first-class view.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?! I'M HUMAN! I'M NOT A GODDAMNED BLOODSUCKER!"

"Of course you're not. You're a different type of vampire."

"THEN WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!"Even as he spoke, a slight silver sheen covered his eyes.

"Matthews, cease yelling this instant! I will not raise my voice over yours."

"_NOT UNTIL YOU TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!" _The timbre of his voice had changed, making it velvety and harsh at the same time.

"Matthews, Calm Yourself." Integra tried to order him, "You're not making this any easier." Her tone only made him stand, fists clenched, his eyes going completely silver.

"_THEN TELL ME WHAT THE HELL IS GOING __**ON! **_At his last word, a sharp concussion pounded through the room, knocking things over and shattering glass and machines. Integra managed to hold her ground, but the Doctor was knocked out from the blast.

"AGENT MATTHEWS! CONTAIN YOURSELF!" Raw, invisible power whipped through the room, tearing huge scars out of the stone walls. "AGENT MATTHEWS!" She yelled again, drawing her saber.

She was saved from having to harm him, for a soon as it had begun, a thick vacuum drew all the power back into his body.

His eyes cleard to their normal brown, and with a soft, "Well, _that_ was interesting." He fainted dead away.

Integra sighed, sheathed her saber, and called for some men to clean up. "He transforming faster than we anticipated. We'll have to do _something_," She left the infirmary. "And we'll have to do it soon."

From his place in the shadows of the infirmary, Alucard's look of shock quickly faded into a look of glee, his insane laughter drifting through the halls.

From the surveillance room, Pip leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh. "Well, _camarades, _pardon my English, but fuck me."

* * *

Schrodinger smiled as the machinery was put into place by the unwitting workers. Everywhere, blacks, whites, and even oriental workers welded and yelled for help. "Disgusting," he said, watching the interaction. "The fuhrer is probably rolling is his grave right now."

"Hey, kid!" Turning behind him, Schrodinger saw one of the workers, a burly black man, had spotted him. "Get out of here, this ain't now place for kids!"

"Ah, so sorry, _schwarzer_" he sneered, "I didn't know. I'll just come back another time." And with a smile, he disappeared, right before the worker's eyes.

The man just stared in shock at the air ahead of him, trying to figure out what he had just seen. Was it a ghost? "No, ghosts can't talk to people…can they?"

"Hey, Jimmy! You okay?" Spinning around, Jimmy saw one of the other workers behind him. "Y-y-yeah…I just thought I saw…something."

"Well, come on! Boss says we have to get this finished by tomorrow!" Walking out of the alcove, the men looked over the project. As it took shape, it resembled a pure white tube, like bleached bone after a few months in the desert sun. "Sure is weird, huh?"

"Y-yeah…" Jimmy said, his mind still on what he had seen.

"And what's weirder is the stuff in the boxes! It's all chips and electronics. They've got guys all the way from Silicon Valley to work on this stuff! I mean, make ya wonder what's its for, don't it?"

Jimmy just stayed silent, watching as more of pieces were welded into place. He couldn't help but feel a nagging suspicion in his head that the machine, or whatever it was, would be bad news for everyone.

* * *

The days went by slowly, Matthews lying comatose in the ward, Hedden's training (or ass kicking, depending on who you asked) continuing. And America was strangely quiet. Every so often, the mercs heard a rumor that a crazy priest and pair of nuns were arrested, but the could be anywhere in the world. Then came a fateful call.

Integra looked over the reports from the doctors and grew more and more concerned. The transformation process was progressing by leaps and bounds. And the feeling was everywhere in the manor. Whether she was going to sleep or eating, training or bathing, the sensation wouldn't leave her be. It was hounding her, pursuing her to her very limits.

That was when he private line rang. Snapping out of her trance, she picked it up without reading the caller ID. "Sir Integra Fairbrook Wingates Hellsing here."

"After all the years of saying that, you haven't changed it," the voice on the other end laughed, clearly older, and not from any other country but America."

"Ah, Mr. Spender," Integra replied with mock kindness. "What do I owe this pleasure to?"

"The attack," the elder said, lighting up another cigarette. "The creature that attacked Washington has yet to be captured. We fear its still in the area surrounding Mechanicsville, Maryland. As you know, the men under the Syndicates command have only limited capabilities against FREAKs only. Sending them in against a wendigo is suicide."

"And you want my dear vampires to serve as a hunting party." Integra dropped the act. "What kind of fool do you take me for? You expect me to send my best and leave them in your own incapable hands? You'd better find a better reason before I send them over to teach you some proper manners!"

"How about this then? We have information on Millenium bases in South America and sympathizers in the British government."

Integra remained silent for a few minutes, thinking it over. Then, "When and where?"

"Fort A.P Hill, in Maryland. We'll take your…_people_ to the creatures last reported position. Five days. Agreed?"

After a long silence, Integra finally relented. "Agreed. I'll have my people be there. You'd better be there as well."

"Of course, Integra. That's everything. And thank you for your support."

"Just hold up your end of the agreement," Integra scolded, as she slammed the phone down into the receiver.

"So they've finally faltered," Walter said, approaching.

"Yes. It seems the Syndicate has finally realized their limitations." Picking up the phone again, she activated the PA system. "Seras Victoria and Clayton Hedden, report to my office immediately."

Minutes later, Seras arrived, an exhausted Hedden following her. Looking up, Hedden saw chairs and smiled thankfully. "Finally…_rest…_"

"Not yet," Integra scolded. "You still have work to do."

Hedden groaned. "Come _on_!" he moaned. "I'm training for days with this crazy witch, and now you're sending me to God knows where!"

"You do too," Integra said.

"Huh? What do you mean 'I know too'?"

"The Syndicate, the American equivalent of Hellsing and Iscariot, have requested aid in the form of agents. Seras, I won't risk Alucard on such a simple hunt, so you and agent Hedden will go."

Seras just stared at Integra. "Um, sir? Do you really think…well, what happens if I fail?"

"Then it will be the Syndicates problem, not yours. Just don't die, police girl. I'll never let it go if you do. As for you, Hedden," she said, glaring at the SEAL, "You will accompany her because you know things, things that aren't common knowledge to a new vampire, and a British vampire at that. You know America. You will aid Seras if she needs it, is that clear?"

Seras nodded, Hedden groaned, and eventually, both found themselves at the RAF base in St. Mawgan.

* * *

"I don't like this," Hedden said, boarding the jet. "This _reeks_ of a setup. I know US black-ops, at least the stuff they would show us. How hard can it be to take out some damned bloodsucker?"

"You fired a shotgun into my chest, then stab me with a hunting knife, and you still think it's not hard to kill a vampire?"

Hedden just glared as he strapped himself in. "Just take my word for it, whatever's about to happen, it won't end well. Of course, I probably won't be around to tell you I said so."

As the plane lifted off into the night, Hedden silently prayed and Seras slept, a calm, dreamless sleep.

* * *

'_This is getting really old.' _Was his first thought.

Matthews sat up, rubbing his eyes, as the events of earlier filtered into his scrambled conscious.

"I trust you are now ready to listen?" It was Integra. She was sitting by his bedside, sans jacket and tie.

Matthews sighed. "Yeah. Hey, I'm sorry about what happened earlier."

"No need." She shifted in her seat. "You are a Vampire, but not in the conventional way." Matthews raised an eyebrow. "To put it simply, you are a White Vampire."

"A what?" Integra's normal frown turned into a slight smile.

"A White Vampire; A being that feeds on pure life force. You see, all vampires need life force to keep them alive, and the easiest way to gain that is to drain the blood of humans, where their life force flows. The Three other courts of vampires, The Black, The Red, and The Jade, feed on blood. But this method only drains the weakest part of the life force, the part that keeps them alive, so they must feed very often. The White Court, however, feed on emotions. Emotions carry the stronger part of the life force, the soul, if you will. And the strongest emotions are Anger, Fear, and Lust."

"Wait…vampire…_courts_?" He heard giggles out in the corridor, and glanced over to see a few of the maids peaking in through the doorway.

"Both Alucard and Seras are Black Court Vampires, also known as the Nosferatu; they have powerful dark magic, and can control Hellcreatures. Red Court Vampires cannot use magic, but can transform into powerful demon-like beasts. Their saliva is also a narcotic, which induces a euphoric state. Jade Court Vampires have none of the powers of the other courts, but also none of the weaknesses; There is only one was to harm or kill them. White Court, however, are born, not made, and can end up living and dying as a normal human, but only if they do not awaken their powers. As such, they have been dying out for centuries. You are the last. Your parents never awoke their powers, and so died a normal death. It seems that you awoke yours at a young age, but have not used them, so you have not needed to feed. With all the activity lately, as well as your outburst yesterday, you now are a full White Court vampire." She shifted in her seat again, and suddenly Matthews was very aware of the fact that she was female. "Our researchers have synthesized a formula that will duplicate the sustenance that you would have received if you were actually feeding."

"Umm," He gulped, "And, uh, how do white vamps, uh, _feed._" He asked nervously leaning away slightly. Integra's smile turned lascivious, and she leaned closer, an odd glint forming in her eyes.

"Would you like to find out?" She whispered huskily. Matthews backpedaled as fast as he could, but Integra had already trapped him on the bed. She leaned closer, and…

…Ten armed Wild Geese charged into the room, ripped Integra off of him, and slammed her against the wall.

"_Excuse Moi,_ Sir," Pip said as he walked up to where his men had Integra pinned, "But we cannot allow you to continue." He pulled back a fist. "Please refrain from castrating me for this." Without further ado, he punched her clear across the face. She slumped, out cold.

"My ass is in the fryer for this, _camarades. _Get Mathews to the transport." He turned to the shocked CIA agent, "By the way, _sangsue, _you white vampires feed through intimate contact; i.e., hugging, kissing, and sex. I'm told that your kind preferred the latter." As the others left, he sighed to himself. "If he tries anything on my _mignonette, _he wont live to see the sunrise."

* * *

"Look alive, we're closing on the airbase."

Yawning and stretching, Seras opened her window slide and looked out into the night. Outside was a large swath of forest, buildings spaced out over a large area. Up ahead, bright lights announcing the military base they were landing at. "Wow," she gasped, looking outside with her "vision". She saw squads of troops taking position around the runway, trucks and humvees either idling or moving said squads to their appropriate areas. "They're sure going all out."

"Course they are," Hedden said, putting on some sunglasses. "We're working for another agency. We may be friends, but that has its limits. They won't trust us, and if we do anything that touches them the wrong way, we might as well dig a hole and bury ourselves." He checked his weapons. "Just get ready to run, in case things go bad."

Seras just looked at the American, then back at the runway.

The Louisiana elder puffed gently on his pipe as the plane came down, the screech of the tires loud in the calm night. "Yes," he said to his cell, "They've arrived. Be ready on the signal." Hanging up, he started walking towards the plane. The door opened, the ramp lowered, and a young girl and a solider came out. "Ah, Ms Victoria. Welcome to America."

**Here ya go, folks, chapter nine up! Review!**

**Author's Note: Hey, Kuro here. Just a note on the different words used in this chap. **

_Buona'notte: Good night  
Innamorato: Sweetheart  
Papa: Dad, obviously  
Fidelacchius: Faith_

**Anyway, I wan't to make sure that you understand everything we're putting into this. And remember, the best is yet to come!**


	12. Chapter 10

Chapter 10-Conversations

The Major was positively giddy at how things progressed. "Wunderbar! Ze plan es proceeding exactly how we predicted! Ze Syndicate, Hellsing and Iscariot…they know _nothing_! Pinch me, I must be dreaming!"

"It is marvelous," the Doctor said. "Our first real chance to observe the capabilities of an unknowing FREAK in a public setting. A very crowded public setting at that. The American media will eat it up like the sows they are."

The Major nodded. "All in good time, Herr Doctor. We still have to wait for Schrodinger to activate the equipment."

The Doctor nodded. "Jawhol, mein herr. Don't worry, the deadline was yesterday. With any luck," he grinned, "It's already started."

------------

The elder just puffed on his pipe through the ride, while Seras and Hedden stared at him. "I must say, it's a pleasure to see such cooperation from Hellsing on this sort of mission. Usually we have to go begging to Iscariot. This should really shake things up."

"Anything we can do to help!" Seras said cheerfully. Hedden just sat there, glaring behind his sunglasses. "So, what can you tell us about the target?" she asked.

"He's a _wendigo_, a creature from American Indian myth. The beast is like a vampire only in the fact that it has to kill other humans to survive. That's where the similarities end. You saw that it could go out during daylight without any protection. It also is incredibly fast, and doesn't have the side effect of creating ghouls. It's only purpose in this world is to consume."

"So…it's like a garbage disposal?" Seras asked nervously.

"Precisely," the elder answered. "The reason we can't hit it is because of it's increased metabolism. The virus that creates them-"

"Wait, virus? What _virus_?"

The elder just smiled. "We don't believe in magic or mystery here, Ms. Victoria. We follow the basic tenants of science. We've taken samples from almost every monster on Earth, and found the cause for all of them. You," he said, pointing at her, "Are a result of your restraint from sexual contact, keeping the Human Vampire Virus from mutating into the Human Zombie Virus."

Seras didn't know what to say. All the time she was at Hellsing, she had been told time and time again, "Vampires are creatures of Hell, and must be purged from the Earth." Now, hearing a scientific explanation, she started to feel more…understood.

The elder kept going. "The process of sexual intercourse is not merely physical in the sense you understand. It also occurs at a much deeper level. The cells of the two persons join together, destroying the barrier that prevents the virus from destroying the Cerebral Cortex. Does this make sense to you?"

Seras and Hedden just stared at the elder like he had grown a second head. Neither knew what to do with the wealth of information they had just been fed, and they certainly weren't in a position to do anything, with all the troops they had just seen. "Y-y-yes…that makes perfect…sense…"

'Glad you agree," the elder said. "Now, some of the essentials of the mission. The creature, Eagle's Breath, is still hiding somewhere near Mechanicsville. Local police have been flooded with reports of dead pets and livestock. They trace an indirect line straight to the capitol, and we believe the creature is going for a second try at the capitol for some reason. We don't know why, exactly, but we know this; his target is probably a very public figure. We can think of no other reason why he would make such a blatant attack."

Hedden just absorbed the information, the unimportant bits quickly filtered out and replaced with what he would need. Whatever the creature was, it had a fast metabolism, meaning it could heal from a gunshot incredibly fast. It also meant that the thing needed to eat constantly. "Maybe we could isolate and starve it? But that would have to mean there aren't any animals or plants at all. Capture and dump in a desert? But how would we capture it? And who's the target?"

A flash and boom behind them alerted them to the presence of the enemy, quickly followed by small arms fire and shouts of attack. "Damn rebels," the elder said. Grabbing at a walkie-talkie, he screamed, "All units, form a perimeter! The enemy is attacking the convoy!"

Without warning, an explosion threw the car over on its side, knocking Hedden and the elder unconscious. Seras, fighter she was, quickly kicked away the door and dragged out Hedden. Looking around with her vision, she saw a group of men with small arms firing all over the place, some soldiers dropping, blood pouring out. Then, she saw something that made her blood run cold. Out in the distance was a man, standing straight up, wielding a sword of the purest silver. "Oh no…" she whispered, before going for the nearest truck. Throwing away everything inside the bed, there was no trace of the Harkonnen. After two more trucks, she finally found it, though the combined weight of the gun and Hedden weighed her down greatly. Making due, she headed into a deep section of trees, leaving the Syndicate to themselves.

The warrior smiled, watching her prey run off. Grinning beneath her Kevlar facemask, they set off in the wondrous pursuit.

The elder quickly woke up, and slowly dragged himself out of the wreck. "Cease fire…" he moaned. "Cease fire…"

Slowly, the order went down the line, until the "rebels" were gathered at the flipped car. "Who set off that explosive?" the elder said.

"No one, sir," the "rebel" leader answered. "We followed out orders to the letter. Whoever set off that bomb wasn't with us."

The elder stewed as the men cleared up the drone truck and debris. In the air, a Huey whirled the winds this way and that, dust swirling around the elder as he took out his cell phone. "There's an issue…Yes, it was…none dead or wounded…probably think she's a programmed…Don't worry, I have a plan to draw them out…"

---------------

Heinkel and Yumiko languished in the cell, each hour drawing on like an eternity. Hunt was still alive, they knew that. In what state, both geographically and physically, it was anyone's guess. "Heinkel," Yumiko said wealky, "What will happen to us?"

"Don't know." She frowned. "Iscariot has abandoned us, that much is certain. What we have to focus on is getting out. If we are put on trial…we'll certainly be found guilty." She didn't want to imagine what the inside of an American prison would be like. They would almost certainly separate her from Yumiko, and Heinkel knew how that would end. No one would protect Yumiko, and no one would be protected from Yumie. Drawing her legs close to her body, Heinkel felt moisture in her eyes and quickly shook it away. "Dammit! How did those FBI bastards find us!"

The locks on the door moved, and it swung open, a SWAT team on the other side. "Come with us, ladies, you're being moved."

"Where!" Heinkel shot off angrily. "Tell me where you're taking us, you heathen pigs!"

Silently, the team went in and started cuffing the women. "Please, you'll know when you get there."

"No!" Heinkel screamed. "Where's Father Hunt! What have you done with him!"

Her questions and shouts were greeted with a wall of silence, and soon, they were put into an armored transport van. Looking around, the two were greeted with a welcome surprise. "Father Hunt!"

Hunt just stared at the floorboards, his beard stained with tears. "Father," Yumiko said, slowly moving to him. "Father, please, tell me that we'll be fine…"

Hunt just kept staring down at the floor.

---------------------------------

Hedden felt his body swinging this way and that, his vision blurry and unfocused. Trying to focus, what he saw was a moving shadow, coming right at him. "No…no…I don't wanna die…"

Seras panted slightly, a habit she still hadn't broken from her time as a Human, lugging her unconscious partner on her back. Clay was no lightweight, plus he had all his weapons and her cannon. Not to mention the lunatic with the sword who was chasing them.

She caught a flash of silver in her peripherals, and quickly dodged to the side. She whipped her unsheathed Bowie knife in her had around, only nicking her pursuers clothing. She dove forward, unceremoniously dumping Clay on his head and pulling out his 9mm, whipping around to meet her opponent.

Not too tall, maybe 5'8 and change, short brown hair, clad in black body armor and a thin Kevlar mask. A gold emblem decorated his(her? Seres couldn't tell) right sleeve. He held a sliver saber that she knew, from the blackened, bleeding wound on her leg, had a seriously powerful blessing on it.

"Syndicate trash," The person hissed through his mask, voice distorted by the thick weave of the Kevlar, "Go to hell, with the rest of your traitorous kind." He threw a set of throwing knives into her hands, pinning her to the ground. "Die."

Seres watched the silver descend upon her and could not hold in her terrified scream.

-------------------------------

Clayton came to slowly, the sounds of a blade whipping through the air and a shrill scream. He whipped up his head in time to see a flash of silver descend on his partner.

Wait… Silver sword… Short brown hair… no curves to speak of…

"Ilyanya?" The person started, her sword missing by scant centimeters. She whipped around, pulling down her mask as she did so, face slack with suprise.

"Clayton?" Seres looked between them, still pinned to the ground.

"You two know each other?" Clayton's face split in a maniac grin.

"Know each other? Hell, we're practically siblings!" He stood up, went over to Ilyanya and clapped a hand on her shoulder. "How ya been, you old nut?"

Ilyanya smiled, "Not bad, but…" She pulled out from under his hand, sheathed her sword, and decked him clear across the face, "I still owed you that you lying bastard!"

"What did I do?!" he yelled, confused.

"You said you would only be gone for a few weeks! It's been _10 YEARS!_" Clay rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

"Well, I kinda thought that you would figure it out…" He looked at the angry twitch in Ily's eyebrow, "Don't kill me!" He cowered.

"Umm," Seras interjected, "This is really touching and all, but do you mind?" She whined pathetically, pulling at the knives.

"Sorry." Ilyanya pulled them out and helped her up, "The names Ilyanya Cerkez, FBI Chief of Washington D.C."

"FBI?"

"Federal Bureau of Investigation; we investigate things." Seres cocked her head.

"What's a Federal agent doing hunting Vampires?" She questioned. Ilyanya smirked.

"Someone's got to do it, Ummm…" Ily started.

"Oh! Sorry, I'm Officer Seres Victoria of Hellsing." Ily's eyes widened.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry! I hadn't realized! I thought you where a 'programmed' vamp!" Seras cringed.

"No, I am pure-blood Nosferatu. My Master is Alucard." Ily nodded.

"Alright. Follow me. I'm sure _Papá _will love to meet you." She turned and looked towards the west. "I hope you can keep up." She took off at a dead run.

"Wait up!" They yelled, and ran after her.

-------------------------

"D-d-d-d-_uuuuuuuuuude_, we are freaking _wasted_!" Sean screamed, staggering this way and that.

His friend Mike nodded, the two girls on his arms giggling madly. "I know!" But his smile darkened a bit. "I just wish there was more to do here."

"I can give you something to do," a voice from an alley said. Turning, the four saw a kid there, white, blond haired, with baggy clothes on. "If you want the ultimate adventure, I can give it to you, with so much more."

Sean and Mike just looked at each other, then started laughing. "Yeah right!" Sean laughed. "Go home, kid, your _mommy_ is probably worried sick-HAHAHA!"

"Yeah," Mike sniggered. "You don't want to be late for show and tell…pffffft!"

The boy just shrugged his shoulders. "Very well. I guess you're just not man enough for it."

Now it was personal. "Hold on kid," Mike said, grabbing the boy's arm. "You got something? We'll see it. Just show us," he said, a manic glint in his eye. The boy just smiled.

In a few minutes, they arrived at a formerly abandoned warehouse, now filled with a machine of unknown use and origin. To Sean, the group's resident geek, it looked like a photon torpedo. "What is it?" he said, looking at the other pieces of equipment surrounding it.

"It is the latest in virtual reality simulation. It takes the user's memory, and combines it with information from the Internet, to create the most realistic world ever. In it's current configuration, it is designed to resemble a free-roaming simulation, where the player is a marauding vampire on the hunt."

"Al-_right_!" Mike said, almost jumping out of his skin. "Let's go already! _This_ sounds _awesome_!"

"Hey, Mike, let's wait up a sec," Sean said, eyeing the machine with growing worry. "This stuff is way more than any kid can come up with, even if his parents are filthy freaking rich. There's something about this whole thing that doesn't seem right. Kid, how can you tap into the player's memory? Not even doctor's have found a foolproof way to do it."

"A small electrical jack is implanted in the skin, at the exact spot where memories are sent to and from storage.

Too wasted to understand, Mike yelled out "Sweet! Sign me up!"

The boy just grinned.

-------------------------------

"This wasn't supposed to happen!" The Texas elder shouted to the gathered council. "We were assured security was tighter than a bulls ass!"

"Calm down, you twit!" the Massachusetts elder barked. "We can't afford to go losing our heads this late in the game! We have to come up with a new plan, now!"

"We could bring _her_ out," the California elder said slowly, and there was a murmur of interest through the room. "She has never failed our mission before. We could use her to capture the Hellsing Draculina, and reprogram her. We just need the _will_ to make it happen."

The silence in the room was deafening, each member stewing over the implications of letting _her_ out.

"We've been over those scenarios," the Pennsylvania elder said at last. "We can't afford to let her out again. The risks are to great to security."

The California elder interjected a quiet suggestion: "We could use the new program. It needs a test drive anyway, and if she is killed, it is no great loss." There was a rumble of consent across the room. The California Elder pushed the closed com-link, "Release…"

"Wait! _We _have not given our consent." The three remaining head elders halted his announcement. "If we cannot control her, what will we do when she loses control?" continued the Pennsylvania elder.

"The field units will take care of her. We captured her once, we can do it again."

"But that decades ago, when she could be fooled," the Massachusetts elder proclaimed.

"But _we _have grow cannier as well," the California elder said, "it will not be a problem." he turned to the link again' "Release…"

"No," the Maryland elder said. "We have to find her first. Once the target is located," he looked the California elder in the eye. "_Then_ we release her."

"Very well. Stand by to release…"

-------------------------------

The three runners came to a sudden stop in some strange backyard. A large black dog barked at them from its cage. "Well," Ilyanya breathed out, "Home sweet secret base home."

Clayton staggered to them, gasping desperately for air. "Hey…where…are we?" he panted, close to collapse.

"Oh, come now," said Seras, "It wasn't that far a run."

"Maybe…for ya… you…freakin' vamp…" he gasped out. Ilyanya chuckled and led them to the front of the house. "What're you... laughin at…you bitch…"

"Nothing, nothing at _all_," she said mischievously, knocking on the door three times. The door opened a crack, then swung open all the way to reveal a beaming man the size of a grizzly.

"Ily!" he exclaimed happily, scooping her up in a bear hug, "where have ya' been lately!"

"Hey Greg." She said, laughing, "Ya' mind? I kinda _like _breathing." He chuckled and put her down. "Is _papa _awake?"

"Yeah, he's down in the war room. I'll send you down." They all went inside and Greg went to a closet off to the side and pushed the coats away to reveal a blank wall with a small crack in the plaster. He pushed the crack and a panel opened to reveal a palm scanner. He scanned his palm and it beeped, then shut off. Seras and Clayton blinked.

"Do we have to get in the closet?" Clayton asked hesitantly.

"Well that would be kinda hard, considering you never _left, _but no." Ilyanya said mockingly, laughing at Clay's indignant yelp; "We go to the bathroom." They blinked again. She led them to the main bathroom and opened the shower curtain to reveal a hidden lift. "Well? All aboard the _war room express!_"

Looking at each other nervously, Clayton and Seras tentatively stepped onto the lift with Greg following behind. Closing the shower curtain, a whirring noise sounded and it slowly began to crank down. It picked up speed until suddenly, it stopped. Ilyanya opened the curtain again to reveal a staircase leading down. They began to descend and came to a steel door with another palm scanner. Greg scanned his hand again, and the door slid open to reveal…

"Woah…" the two Hellsing agents breathed out.

Inside was a huge control center, filled with dozens of giant monitors and consoles manned by dozens of techs in blue suits. Three giant screens dominated the center of the room were showing giant maps of North America, each covered with blinking or colored lights. Up on a large center control consol was a tall man with gray hair, facing the maps. He spoke when Ilyanya came up to stand beside him.

"I thought I asked you not to bring your work home, _innamorato._" he said lightly.

"And I told you sometimes I can't help it, _Papa. _They're Hellsing." He chuckled and turned around. "Welcome to Vampire Command North America." Clayton's eyes widened commicaly at the sight of his face.

"Holy……It's… That's.... _That's freakin' George Romero!_"


End file.
